What's Held Within
by prowess
Summary: Because of a spell, Harry and Hermione are both lost, and can remember nothing. Will they see each other again, specially when evil is just lurking around the corner?
1. Renewal of Trust

Disclaimer: The characters used in this piece belong to J.K. Rowling. I really wouldn't want to wish, dream, nor fantasize that the characters she brought to life are mine mainly because I am not a totally big fan of Harry Potter and friends (Sorry Harry Potter fans.) I enjoy borrowing them from Ms. Rowling and hanging out with them, through this little modern technology called www.fanfiction.net, which has been our meeting place for quite some time now. Hopefully, you can hang with us, and as proof of your stay, please click the long button below with the words: SUBMIT REVIEW 

A/N: Well, this is the first fic I would ever post for the public eye to see. To tell you the truth, I haven't finished all the books yet. If you are wondering how I came up with fics even if I know little about the books, all the facts I use for my HP fics are: a) from the movie (which I know has it's own differences from the book), b) my devoted HP-fans friends who always urge me to read ahem h/d fics: YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, c) and lastly I try to capture their personality form other fics, (although I am sort of a picky reader but I do not copy other people's work, I just capture their persona.) I am not an avid fanfic reader either, I just buzz around and if a summary interests me, I read it. That's why you shouldn't keep your pairings or plot secret because if I don't know what it's about, you lost a review from me, bud. Of course, cliffhangers in summaries are better than having no summary at all. Well, anyway, there might be a few good or bad ideas down there in that fic of mine, but either way, let me know. Please Review, oh, and no plagiarizing. I haven't seen anyone have this plot yet (but then again I don't read fanfics that much so…) Anyways, enough about my exposure to fanfiction. Net, on with what you're here for!! Have fun, and please review!!!! 

Chapter 1: Renewal of Trust 

_In the Death Eater's lair, where the Dark Lord anticipates,_

_The appearance of a boy who will come to this place,_

_With the fire ablaze, he awaits the doomed fall,_

And his followers come with him as he begins to rule all… 

"Hermione!' Harry sprinted along the fire-lighted hallways. Alone, tired and worried, he had finally found his reason of going there in that dark, cold place: to save… and to protect. Panting, he slowly walked toward the seemingly unconscious girl, still careful towards the danger enveloping him. She was clamped on the wall with thick iron chains, her hands white from the slow, painful flow of her blood. Her beige dress was in tatters, torn and worn out from her torment with the Death Eaters. He started to stroke her auburn hair as she closed her eyes tighter in pain and fear. She awoke, rather fatigued and aching all over. For days, she had stayed in that horrid position, swollen, hungry and miserable. Finally, someone was with her, caressing her hair, holding her arm, whispering in her ear, listening to her heart that was aching with hopes, the hope for freedom and gentleness, or love. She began to cry, as the young man ever so gently lifted her chin up and lovingly wiped her tears away, because she, as helpless as she is, was unable to do so. Her tears won't stop from trickling down her dirty face, but somehow, as each hot tear fell, her heart grew lighter, and her spirit more free and full of hope. Harry continued to shush her softly, looking around to see if anyone was there and then took his wand as slowly as he can, so as not to startle Hermione, and whispered a spell. The chains grew lighter and her hands moved at the change, her hands were beginning to tingle when the chains released themselves. As the numbness subsided, she wearily fell into Harry's hands, which caught her at the exact moment. Harry held her with love in his eyes, love for a friend that was gone for some time and he felt regret. He regretted that he didn't come to her aid as soon as he was able. But it's all over now. He was going to get her out of there safely. He carried her like a mother would carry her baby, softly, gently and soothingly. He understood that Hermione was quite comfortable with the situation when her breathing slowed down a bit and became more normal. She already stopped crying. She was silent, like a sleeping baby, probably exhausted from her perils, her hands lightly around Harry's neck, and her feet, one gracefully on top of the other. 

Hermione felt safe and secure in the arms of this strong, considerate friend of hers. She was sure nothing could go wrong now and that in a few moments time she would be out in the open. But even so, there was still a part of her that thought of pessimistic things. _What if suddenly, she was carried back again to the wall and the iron chains were flung on her hands once more, clenching on her flesh and all that Harry could do was just stand there; with him knowing that no matter how he pulled he won't be able to take her out? What if they fell into some other trap and won't be able to escape? What if the person carrying her now was not the real Harry, yet someone taking her to a more horrible place and she was just too weak and sleepy to notice? What if he did look like Harry but it was just because of a spell?_ These thoughts formed doubts in her heart, and her chances of getting out. Unsure, she just felt she had to know. 

"Harry?" She managed to call out weakly.

"Are you alright now? Just sleep, don't worry. I'll get you out." Harry answered back. He stopped for a while to look at her. It was then that Hermione knew it was really him. His concern, his thoughtfulness, his reassuring smile, the sincerity of his voice, all were enough to erase all the doubts she had in her mind and heart. Harry continued to carry her through the large hallways. Hermione let out a contented sigh and slowly nodded her head a few times. Then, because of exhaustion, she slowly drifted to sleep…. 

Harry felt Hermione's body rest on him a little bit more. Her breathing went back to regular intervals and Harry felt her breath in his neck, and he moved Hermione's position as carefully as possible. His arms were already aching from the weight he carried, not that Hermione was heavy, but because of the fact that he had been carrying her for hours now. He had stopped once or twice before, but each time Hermione would wake up. Harry felt awful when this happens, because it was Hermione' s time to rest, she needed it badly. Now, Hermione was just asleep, and he just can't wake her up again, but he really needed the rest as desperately as Hermione needed her sleep. _Harry, how can you save her if you are too tired to continue? You have to rest. What if Voldemort suddenly appears? You won't have the strength._ These were the reasons why he needed the rest. Another part of him though opposed these thoughts. _Harry, you should also think of your safety. The thing is to get both people in one piece, remember? You should go on. We need speed; we're running out of time. We are in the enemy 's warren; if you relax, enemies might suddenly attack you. _ More questions were raced in the confused boy's head. But he had to decide, he would waste time either way anyway, because even if he didn't lay Hermione down, he would still stop to fix Hermione's torn dress or reposition her. He decided they both needed rest and that he needed to place the sleeping beauty on a flat surface and not threaten to hurt her fragile body, with her back arching too much when it slips little by little from Harry's grasp.  He again shifted Hermione's position, so that he can lay her down in the most effortless way. Hermione leaned on the stonewall, and Harry slumped beside her, fixing his dark glasses and brushing some thin, black wisps of hair that have escaped off from his forehead. Her deep breaths were slightly heard and Harry just continued to gaze at her pretty features. He delicately touched Hermione's still tainted face, rubbing the grime off. Hermione felt the contact, and resisted his touch and frowned faintly as if telling Harry not to disturb her while she is in the middle of her peaceful slumber. Harry just smiled, understanding what she was trying to show and kept his hand away. He leaned on the wall again and glanced at Hermione occasionally, to see if she was okay. After resting for a few more moments, Harry tried to carry Hermione again, but he almost stumbled. Luckily, Harry regained his balance, but he knew that he was not yet strong enough. He shambled on the wall and breathed deeply. He looked at Hermione again, sleeping quietly as before, her hair gently nestled on her shoulders, wearing a surreal smile on her face, showing that she was having the sweetest dream yet. Harry sat next to her and Hermione moved her head so it would touch his shoulder. Harry's eyes were fluttering, battling his sleepiness, knowing that he had to look out for enemies passing by. He reminded himself that he was just going to rest, not sleep. He rubbed his eyes open, but he was too tired to keep them that way and, as if Hermione wasn't asleep, she enfolded her pale, weak hand around Harry's body, and they cuddled as close as possible to get some warmth and rest. 

Harry had gotten enough rest that he needed and he hoped Hermione did too because now he thought it was time to try to carry Hermione again. He drowsily opened his eyes, and found himself in a room, fire-lit like the hallways he has ran into. It was dim in there despite of the light. He felt the room's large space, and he can feel the heat coming from his left side, where a redbrick fireplace was. Near that fireplace, there was a mahogany table and a chair, old because of the lines and scratches on its surface. They rest on a red and gold carpet, imprinted with legendary creatures, snakes, dragons and such. He then realized that he was in a high plane, for him to see the furniture that was lit by the faint light. He felt like he was hanging up in the air because he can't feel his feet touch the floor, yet a wall was pressed on his back. Groaning, he tried to move but wasn't able to feel his hands. They were numb. He blinked, becoming more awake, yet much too his surprise, Draco Malfoy was staring in his eyes, in the most devilish way he could imagine. A big smirk emerged from his face when he realized that the "boy who lived" awakened already. Harry then became conscious that he was trapped. He was moving every muscle he can to be released from such clamps. '_These! Hermione suffered a lot._' He thought as he pictured how Hermione reacted when she was placed in such a location. He tried to break free from the realization that struck him. He was not able to save….

"Hermione!!" He screamed. He was in such panic and fear, more so than before. All his efforts were gone. Only then did he realize that Hermione was lying in the corner, looking dead. 

Harry continued to scream her name, pleading that she wake up, praying that she was all right. He didn't care about his situation now; he only cared about his promise to Hermione, to Ron, to Dumbledore. He turned his head to look at Malfoy, who was smiling victoriously as ever. 

"What did you do to her, Malfoy?" Harry shouted, as fierce fully as ever, his tone filled with anger and hate. He regretted resting beside Hermione, knowing that seeing her alive for years and years would be far better than those couple of minutes they were huddled together. He regretted sleeping and not keeping awake to protect the both of them.  Why was he so dense?  Breaking from what he was supposed to do, letting his emotions take over too much. He clenched his fists in anger and hatred. Striving to break free, he tried to pull the iron devices that were clinging on his hands, off the wall. He looked at Hermione again, who was still lying down, although he could see, when he squinted, that she was breathing… and alive. He looked at the table near the fireplace where Draco was headed, to see that his wand, all that he brought, precious items, charms, everything, and all that could bring Hermione and himself to safety were swiftly positioned there, far from his reach. 

"What did you do to her?"  Harry screamed again, pushing his voice as hard as he could to release the fury that was forming in his heart. No matter what he did, though, he knew no one would fear him in his situation. He was the victim, the captured, and the hopeless target. Draco just smiled, his hands gently pressed, so that each of his fingertips would touch the other. He crossed his legs and looked at Harry in the eye.

"You know, Potter" he began, "It is I who should ask you what you did to your filthy friend, that Mudblood. I did not leave her unsafe, in exchange for sleep or rest unlike someone here, but rather, I was the one who found you in the middle of those tricky hallways. They were thorny, weren't they? Or were you just to tired? Poor, poor little Harry Potter, the wonder boy, the boy who lived…" He smiled deviously which made Harry more enraged, and guilty. He couldn't say no. He did leave her and failed to protect her. He deserved this punishment, but she didn't. _So, they got me, why don't they let her go? _This question continued to go over in his head. He just gritted his teeth and kept quiet, knowing that he could never beat Draco, or anyone for that matter, in his condition. 

"Now I ask you, what are you going to do now, after what you did? You are just as rotten as that so-called friend of yours, and now you are going to suffer like she did, and maybe even more." Draco cackled at the thought, and uncrossed his legs. 

"Why don't you let her go now? You've got me!! Why don't you let her go?" Harry then found the urge, to ask the question that bugged his mind for the past few minutes. Draco stopped smiling and frowned.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that for now," Draco stood up and walked away. "But I'm sure you know why…" His grin was seen in his face again, this time more evil than ever. 

"No!! If you do that to her!! You have me! What else do you want? Let her go!!" Harry can't organize his thoughts. He just shouted and screamed in rage, repeating his questions over. Draco turned his head back, glared at him and said, "Should I tremble, Potter? Please, spare me your yells. I wouldn't heed." He then looked away from Harry, raised his hand and waved it a little, expressing a sarcastic goodbye and laughed silently, devilishly. Then he continued to walk away until Harry could not see even his slightest silhouette. Harry knocked his head a few times against the wall he was pinned on, his eyes shut tight, tears still escaping from his closed eyes. He couldn't do anything, he failed in his mission, broke his promises, did nothing. It was now his turn to cry, all the efforts he made, his whole heart and soul was poured to saving Hermione, and now because of just a little mistake, it all went down the drain. He turned his head to the other side, only to see Hermione already locked up in a cell, holding on to it's rusty bars, looking at him frightfully, knowing that all her fears have come true. Harry could do nothing now. 

A/N: Well, that was the first part. The poem is a bit goofy so, sorry for that. (I am not a poet, you know!!) There might be misspellings and grammatical errors, so I'm sorry for that. The spell and its effects all the things in the summary, you won't know much about till the third or fourth chapter, but it would be clear by then, (I hope.) Please Wait, I hope you do. It would take a long time for me to make chapters so don't expect me to update regularly. Please just wait because, the reasons that I might take a long time to update is because: a) I can't stay that long in the computer, b) I work on other stuff like homework and chores, and c) I keep revising and improving so that it would be more dramatic (?) or easier to understand (I think) so it will be better understood by you. I would want it to be as detailed as possible and I am sort of a perfectionist so… Trust me I've got more coming so I hope you review from time to time, ok? .  Please. please click that button; it will be greatly appreciated, if you wrote something in it of course. Constructive criticisms would be very much appreciated rather than flames. Ask me how to do that. I'm good at those..: ) hehe… 

 See ya!! 


	2. Hope from the Bush

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. You would probably know why because you don't own them either. If you are J.K Rowling, you are exempted. 

A/N: Well, here I am again!!! I hope you liked the start of my fic!! I haven't clearly thought of how Hermione was "tortured", I am still covering holes in my fic, the stuff that still boggles your minds. Just be super patient, I'm thinking of something.  

I also want to thank the first few people who reviewed me. I appreciate your compliments!!! And I'm sorry you had to read the word file instead of the html one. Our computer's sick and so I can't replace it easily, but I'll try. 

Anyways, here it goes!! Chapter 2!!

CHAPTER 2: Hope from the Bush 

Absolute Silence…

Only the sound of the burning wood and the flickering flame in the fireplace can be heard in the room Harry and Hermione had been stuck in for so long. Ever since Harry was trapped, he wasn't able to bring himself to speak. He was ashamed at his greatest failure yet… saving someone you love. But he was not going to give up. It was getting warmer in the little quarter and few fresh wood ashes passed through the fire stand and floated to Harry's face, burning his skin. It was like a painful prick of a needle in your flesh, scorching, like the fire it has been resting on. This had occurred to him once or twice now, he was not counting, but he was unable to wipe it away, lest hold it, for he was still bound on the heavy chains. He was just counting on this little black piece of bark scrap to wither away and peel of his skin, like he used to do, and just wait for the pain to slowly go away. On the other end, Hermione was sitting on the floor, playing with her fingers, her back to Harry. There was nothing much to do, nothing to write with, not even a stick or a pole of some sort, with which she could hit or strike the wall, scribbling figures, releasing tension.  There was nothing, no book, which she would greatly love reading, no food, no freedom, no everything. _'It was okay though,' _she thought, _'I have lived like this for quite some time now, haven't I?' _She laughed at her foolishness, she looked ridiculous at her state, and so is Harry. _'Why doesn't he talk?'_ Hermione wondered as she turned around to see Harry closing his eyes, wincing in pain, as another thin layer of burnt wood flung to his face, near his eyes. She also frowned, turning her head away, feeling what Harry did, as if the piece of wood crumb was stuck in her face. She became teary-eyed, pitying his state. She just can't stop thinking about how to get out of the horrible place. 

"Hermione," a voice called out to her. It was full of pain, anger, and sorrow. "I'm sorry" it whispered, the voice shaky, guttural and fading. Hermione clutched to the thick bars that prevented her from being beside Harry.

"Shhh… Harry it's not your fault. It's no one's fault. You shouldn't be…I understand. It was hard, for both of us."  Hermione knew she can't get out in her state, and she knew Harry wouldn't be able to either if he would continue to carry her. She had to make a choice. "You can go now, you know. You just have to rest. Sooner or later, they would take you down. They used to for me. Then you'll be placed in another cell and you can escape from there."

'Hermione, I came here for you. I'm not leaving without you. Trust me. I'll bring you back. Just wait," Harry answered, not believing Hermione can make such a decision. He knew it was for him as well; his restlessness caused them both to be brought back here. He can't leave Hermione, no matter what. She was a very close friend. A very, very close friend…

"Awww…isn't that too sweet?? I hope I won't make it bitter, or rather, make it spoiled." A dark voice came from behind them. Suddenly, the wall Harry was leaning on, turned backward, making Harry's head continually go lower, closer to the ground.  His black, tousled hair fell down, because of gravity, hanging in the air, swaying in every direction as Harry tries to struggle. The wall, or Harry thought it was, that he was leaning on, was not a wall but a big circular piece of wood. He never thought the room was big as it was. Behind him, it was absolute darkness. Someone had been watching them all this time, waiting for their conversations. And then suddenly, Harry's scar heated up. The pain was unbearable. He was positive that Voldemort had been there for a long time, yet he hadn't felt the pain from his scar before. _Did he use a charm? Was it the burning wood?_ It had to be his answer. The continuous pain from the burning wood on his skin might have covered the pain of the scar. A few moment's before, chips of the black, hot and pointy branches flew consecutively on his face, as if some wind blew directly to his face, and the pain didn't stop, instead was growing, like a touch of a hand moving inside a burning bush. The wood flakes continued to pierce his skin, because of the heat or because of the pointed tip, as if it were intentional. They were both intolerable anyways.  The footsteps grew nearer, and surprisingly, the pain faded, with every step the man made. _Who is he? _He can't look at Hermione, but she obviously saw who the man was, when she gasped in fear. 

  "We meet again Potter," the voice called out again. Harry's pain subsided. His eyes opened wide. He felt nothing. The man's hand came out of his robe and reached out to Harry's eyes, to get the dangling eyeglasses off of his nose. The hand continued to touch Harry, cold and pale, from what Harry could see. Everything was hazy and black and white; there was no shine in his eyes anymore. He was tired of being there. He wanted everything to end. The hand reached down and touched his forehead. Harry's upside down body has caused him that tingling, numb feeling as the hand went to the crown of his head and further disheveled his already messed hair, acting like he was smoothing it. Harry shut his eyes, shaking his head, attempting to get away from the stranger's hands. But the man followed his escaping head, as if to tease Harry, their chase becoming more and more intense, making Harry more annoyed and furious. His head was aching and bleeding, his body was all numb and upside down, and now this person makes it worse by annoying him. What other painful thing can happen to him?  His head was still quivering, like Houdini escaping from an escape attack, when with one swift shift; Harry's head came to an ultimate stop. Hermione's shocked cry echoed in the room as, in one swift motion, Harry's head got caught in the man's palm, which was pushing his skull to the circular wooden wall. Harry jolted as well, but he was too surprised to talk. He gagged a little, and turned to where Hermione's direction was. 

"Who is he?? Please tell me…" he pleaded the frightened girl. She was breathing heavily, her hands clasped tightly together, biting her lip, tears forming in her eyes. 

"Harry, I'd rather not, you should know him…" Hermione tried to reason to Harry, knowing he would be totally surprised. 

"Who is HE? Just tell me! I don't care…" the desperate boy furiously shouted.  He can't think right anymore. His last words faded, changing into sobs. "Please, tell me" he repeated.

Hermione gulped and took a big breath "Harry," he began, "that man, that man is him. You-know-who. It's Voldemort." Hermione whispered the last word. It was him.

" Well, Harry, I'm appalled you did not remember me after all this." He turned his head and faced Hermione in disbelief as Hermione took up the courage to say his name. Hermione heart skipped a beat at the sight of him glaring at her, but relaxed, as it was just for a little while when he looked at Harry once more. Her heart was still heavy, though; she saw that twinkle of thrill and revenge in his eyes. 

"I'm assuming you are tired and hungry. Here let me give both of you a little treat." His hand went in his robe and he grabbed a little plump, apple-shaped fruit. It was smaller than the ordinary apples, but not small enough that it would be fitting your mouth when you open it as wide as you can. It was sweet smelling, like caramel and honey. Its aroma was strong and Hermione closed her eyes longing to eat that fruit as soon as possible. But Harry was angry and he did not dare look at the thing. 

The Dark Lord held the fruit closer to his face and smelt it. "Mmmm…." His voice trailed off, making Hermione jealous. Finally, it was a chance to eat something soothing to the palate. 

"Do you want one, Ms. Granger?" he turned to Hermione and offered it to her, evil like the stepmother in Snow White. And just like Snow White, the little princess cannot hide her desire.

"Yes, I want that fruit," Hermione declared her eyes staring at the little jewel, spell bounded by the sight and scent, talking like a hypnotized robot. 

"Hermione, no!! You don't know what's in there!!" Harry warned. Hermione came quickly to her senses upon hearing his warning and quickly held back the arm that was slowly outstretching. 

"Do you want to try it Harry, to find out? Crucio!!" He shouted and the next thing he saw was Harry was screaming in pain as electric shocks stroke through his body. At that moment, the Dark Lord placed the fruit in his mouth, forcing Harry to bite on it. It was luscious, softening the tongue, tingling it. After that little bite, Harry was biting his lips, licking every single drop of syrup that oozed out through the bitten flesh. 

 Voldemort smiled, took the bitten dessert, and kept it. Harry was in his hands now. Hermione didn't know what to feel. Everything was blank in the two Gryffindor's minds. But then someone broke the deafening silence.

"Why doesn't my scar ache? What did you do?" He asked, eyes barely opening. 

            Voldemort could not believe it. Just a bite from that fruit was supposed to make him helpless, powerless, and to faint and sleep, for a long time, maybe even forever. But this boy was still alive, asking him stupid questions even on that state. He hid his anger towards the lad, and tried to show the evil smile he did before. 

"How was the fruit?" Voldemort questioned, feeling like everything was normal; that everything was according to his plan. 

"Mmm….It was sweet, but bitter, because of the person who gave it." Harry coughed out. Some bits of the fruit's caramel syrup, the lumps of unbitten flesh flowed down to Harry's cheeks. 

Voldemort stared in disbelief. He took the fruit out and threw it. The thing rolled to the floor, the juices spilling out from it's inside. It was tempting, but not enough for the Boy Who Lived, or for someone in love. Harry continued coughing out the lumps of food. 

Voldemort was irate. He just wanted to kill the hindrance to his reign, but the suffering was still not enough. Harry needed more. Then he remembered the little question.

"The scar? Wasn't it firing up, like a gun through your head?  Wasn't it burning, like a moth's wing caught in flame? Wasn't it heating up, like those ashes on your face?" He touched that little piece of black powder and stroke it off the young man's face. "Don't you like it? I thought it would make you feel comfortable." With a raise of his hand, Harry's scar burned furiously. He screamed and hissed because of the pain, his head wiggling again. 

"Was that what you wanted, Potter?" Voldemort questioned sarcastically. He was starting to amuse himself, and he did like the fact that the captivating apple- shaped delicacy didn't work. He laughed cruelly, and Hermione couldn't bear watching him torture an important person to her. Her friend…Her very best friend….

Harry couldn't keep up with the excruciating pain, when Voldemort raised his other hand and the wood scraps from the fire blew onto him again. _'This was his plan all along…' _Harry thought unable to withstand the pain he had received for the whole day. _'Was he doing this to Hermione too?' _ He turned to his friend, who was blurry, since Harry's glasses were never placed back on him. But he could feel her concern, the care she wants to repay, the reassurance of safety. Then slowly, the pain went away. Harry didn't want Voldemort to see this. However, the fruit did have an effect on him. He was drowsy and weary. Somehow, the sweet syrup still entered his systems, and the effect took place. Weary, sleepy, that was all he felt. No more warmth, no more anger, no more love, no more Hermione… Hermione… He tried to turn his head to Hermione again. Every time he looks at the young lady, everything felt light.  He just wished that Voldemort would do nothing to her. But he can't do anything about that. One word that comes out from Hermione's lips would mean torture for her. Voldemort will not spare that chance_. 'Please be quiet, Hermione…'_ was all he could shout out repeatedly, in his mind. 

"Stop this!!! Can't you see he's very hurt? Have you no pity?" Hermione blurted out, unknowingly, just so the Dark Lord would stop tormenting her friend. Voldemort stopped, and stared at her. He walked to her cell, and clutched the bars. Hermione backed off a little, as Voldemort pressed his head on the bars.

"Miss Granger… is it just your ignorance, or are you really stupid? Can't you see that every cry that passes through his lips is a hearty laughter for me? That every drop of blood that trickles down his face is power for me? That every time he closes his eyes is a chance for me to rule the world? Or were you just scared, you puny little witch! I am not about to pity this man; I don't have the heart for that. But I do have the heart to blow up his whole body, however that is just one of my last options. Suffering is the topmost. I would love to make him die because of torture. I'm just sorry that won't be happening to you to anytime soon, but count on it. Just wait. " Voldemort turned around, focusing on Harry once more. Hermione was breathing heavily, pain, panic, and worry seen in her face. She can do nothing now. One more protest, and they are both going to die. 

Voldemort bent down and grabbed Harry's hair. The young boy yelped in pain. He clenched his fists and tried to free his hands. _'How more helpless can I get? I can't even protect myself!' _

"I told you to stop it!" Hermione cried out loud. She didn't care if she'll die. She would try to save Harry's life too, just as he saved hers.

"Miss Granger, what are you trying to say? That I kill him now? Do you think that your worthless protests can make me change my mind? This is fun for me! Unfortunately, it isn't for you, but I don't care do I? Do you want me to bind you up too? Remember what my henchmen did to you?"

Hermione was mortified. They ripped off her beige dress to expose her legs, and touched it, threatening to touch the delicate and intimate parts of her curved body if she dare do anything. Luckily, Draco wouldn't want them to do such thing. He said he wanted to do it himself. But he never did. Why? Hermione didn't know. He just stared at her coldly, and walked past. Still even if she wasn't molested or anything, it was terrifying. The men's laughs, the men's foul breath, their tight grip on her thighs, it was enough to make her die. Every night, they would start on the soles of her feet, to the ankle, to her toes, sliding through her lower leg, and making circles in her thigh. Every night, they would be attempting to go higher, but then he would walk in. She never understood him. 

"Go back to you rooms," he would say. "It's my turn." The men would grin lustfully while others pout because it was over. And Hermione always feared that Draco would do it to her this time. Instead, he would just kiss her on the cheek and sit down and look at her cry. After some time, he would destroy his pulled back hair and crumple his robe and go out. Sometimes Hermione would hear his men asking, "How was she tonight?"

Draco would simply reply; "Delicious, like last night," and the men would laugh.

Hermione hated the thought of all the people thinking she was a whore, thinking she was raped, when in fact she was pure. And now, Voldemort was frightening her, to experience that again, now in front of him, and in front of Harry. She hastily nodded her head sideways. 

"Good. I knew you would cooperate after that. I wouldn't want to be hearing from you anytime soon, understand?" 

Harry felt her fear, and couldn't think of anything but one thing that Voldemort could make his men do to her. "Hermione, what did they do to you?" 

Voldemort went back to the bounded man. "No need to answer Granger."

"What did you do to her?" Harry screamed at Voldemort. 

"Nothing, Mr. Potter. My men just tore up her dress and…"Voldemort was cut off by Harry's enraged screaming.  Still, he was even more amused.

"How dare you do that to her!" Harry screamed. The chains of the clamps clang, as he tried to summon his energy to free himself from it. But that syrup from the fruit made him helpless. 

"Harry! It wasn't completely what you are thinking! They didn't touch me that way. They just touched my legs…it wasn't as bad as you think. Please believe me, they didn't take advantage of me." Hermione lied, not wanting to tell Harry about the people's perception of herself and Draco, with her being a slut. Not in front of Voldemort. _'Not as bad? I wanted to tear myself apart after all of that!'_

Harry calmed down a bit. Voldemort sat down and stroke Harry's red face, all the blood rushing to it. "Stop now. She said it wasn't that bad." He stood back up and went to Hermione. "Thank you for saying that. Otherwise, Harry would've died of a heart attack. I wouldn't want this torment to end soon." Hermione was enraged by this, but hid it so as not to upset Voldemort. Instead, she just leaned back on her wall, and stared at the floor. Voldemort, stroke her brown hair, as she started to cry. 

Meanwhile Harry was staring on the window where he was facing. He saw something moving behind the bush…a man, about his age, he can't see the size, but he did see the boy's striking feature and…. 

A/N: Whew!! That was a longer chapter!! I know this may be boring; I haven't gone to the interesting part yet. This is just a preview of how the spell was done. Please wait. I have more coming! R/R!!  Sorry for errors and info that opposed the book. Please if there are any bloopers, read my bio and you'll know why there are any. If you find any, please inform me at silver_prowess@yahoo.com and I'll do my best to fix it without changing the outcome of the story.

R/R!! 

Also, I'm sorry if Draco's a bit mean here. Just think about this: The more you hate, the more you love… Yeah all right!! I'm planning to have a d/hr issue but you can't talk me out of the point that in the end, it would still be h/hr. Cherish those chapters while it lasts, d/hr fans. But I think that would be a long way yet…. So wait for it!! Oh, and you probably know who the boy Harry saw was, don't you? It's a bit obvious, who would be in the castle too? Tell me what you think. R/R!!


	3. The Only Chance

A/N: Well, it's me again!!! This is finally the third chapter!! It's still about the torturing part, but do not fret; the next chapter will be about the muggle events. A lot are going to happen there. I'm really, really sorry about the Hermione's torture part, some of you might get offended but, the girl was tortured. Compared to rape that's something mild you know. She wasn't even molested!!! It's just that she has to suffer pain and since she's a woman, that's what I thought of. I got that idea when we were listening to this report about prostitution. I was thinking about other stuff that could be used besides what happened to Harry, but I just continued typing and adding to it when I just realized it was already long and I had no heart to delete it. So there it is: chapter 3. I hope you are intelligent enough to know where flashbacks are, unfortunately it makes me feel uncomfortable when I see them labeled "start of flashback, end of flashback, etc.", also the same with point of views. But I'm trying my best to make it still understandable. If you don't get it, just read on, don't stop and look back then read again. There are explanations in the latter part. Still, if you don't really get it, I'll just explain at the A/N below, but of course, it's nice when people are curious and analyze your fics so don't fast forward. Also, I want to thank BlUeGrEen and Ms. Tasha Roddick for helping me come up with yet another H/Hr fic. It's really funny, we had sick stomachs during and after talking about it. Please check my bio to see if I have uploaded it!! I hope you R/R both!!

Disclaimer: Harry, Hermione, Voldie and everyone else are not mine. Though there would be original characters later on… Ms J.K. Rowling owns the original characters that definitely, obviously do not belong to me. Ms. Rowling also owns the Dark Lord's castle, complete with the perverted henchmen, the dark lighting and the flaming fireplace with the burning, pointy wood bits and ashes. Furniture shipped there such as the circular wooden block, the antique table and chair and the cell bars for dramatic pops and setting belong to me. Oh, and Walrecka Womvort and Monswick Varploon both belong to me. Sorry if their names are weird, I'm not that good in those kind of things. I could change them too, if I thought of something better.

CHAPTER 3: The Only Chance 

Harry squinted his eyes. Up, down, up, down, skimming on all the pages of the book he was holding. Not finding what he needed, he threw the book behind his back. 

"Bring that back, we don't need that," he called back. 

He grabbed another book and read through it. "The Most Odd Spells Ever, written by Walrecka Womvort. Isn't there any good spell here? If we don't find at least one we are going back in the library." He was going through the pages when his companion brought back the book to him.

"We are not going back there, Harry. It's dangerous. You don't know who might be lurking around here. These are a lot of books, you should at least find a spell here."

"Unfortunately, for us," he replied while closing a thick black book, "this is the last book we carried." He let go of the book and watched it fall amongst the others. 

" No way!! Those were fifteen thick books! And those were bloody heavy too!! Are you sure there isn't any one good spell?" His friend reassured.

"Ron, if there was, we wouldn't have to go back now, do we? Besides, even if there is a spell, we are still going to return the rest of the books. Just help me carry it and get it over with."

Harry took a stack of books and kicked a few books toward Ron, signaling him to carry them too.

"Harry, stop that. Books are delicate, you know. You shouldn't kick them around as if they are just objects." 

"Ron, these are objects."

"I knew that. But they are not just objects, they're important objects, you know. And they easily tear apart so you should at least be careful."

"Ron, I don't think I have time to listen to your lectures." 

"Oh, but I believe Mr. Weasly is right, don't you think Mr. Potter? A voice came from behind them.

It was professor McGonagall.

" Please come with me to Professor Dumbledore. We will discuss matters about you wandering around in the middle of the night and getting books from the…"She took one book from the stack Harry was holding. "Aaah… the restricted section," she ended, her voice crisp either because of the cold air or just her normal strictness. The two captured Gryffindors just looked at each other and obeyed their professor. 

" Professor Dumbledore, I have caught these two boys lurking around with books from the restricted section." Professor McGonagall burst out at the sleepy headmaster.

He just motioned them to come in, and then indicated that the Transfiguration teacher go back to her room and get some rest. She nodded her head and went on her way. As for the young men, he gestured them to go closer. Dumbledore knew what they were looking for. Ron gulped and moved a few steps forward, but Harry didn't care. He moved to Dumbledore and sat on his chair. 

"Professor, it was for—" Harry started. The kind-hearted headmaster hushed him and then he knew it was all right. Harry knew Dumbledore would understand.

"Now, let me see the books you were looking for," the old wizard mentioned to his young student. Harry let go of the stack of books he was carrying and nudged Ron to do the same.

"Ahh, I see… what kind of spell do you really need Harry? Could you tell me the whole story? Maybe if you did, I could help you more."

The Gryffindor Headquarters was quiet. Everyone was asleep, except for one. Harry sat up. He had been trying to doze off ever since Ron stopped whispering to him about the Slytherins, Snape, Lavender, and other rumors and stories that happened during the day. He tried everything, even muggle tricks like counting sheep, or elephants, almost every living thing he knew. But somehow, his gut feel told him to go down and have a drink or just rest by the fireplace. Scratching his head, he then got up and went down. While on the staircase, Harry heard murmurs and scribbling. 

A young woman turned to face him, and revealed a small, dainty smile.

"Hey, can't sleep?" she asked. She pats the empty space behind her, signaling him to sit down. 

Harry just laughed, happy to have company. "What are you doing?" He put his hand in his pajama's pocket, and sat where Hermione had asked her. 

"I'm just researching about a few topics of my interest, just so I would be able to have more information about them. These are more about muggle stuff, not really about lessons here, but I just realized that I haven't read much about us muggles. I don't know what's gotten into me. Maybe I just had nothing left to do, and this is what I thought of." Hermione stopped reading and looked at Harry.

"What about you? What's your excuse?" 

"Can't sleep. Don't know what to do either." 

"Do you want something to eat? I've got milk and cookies there by the stand. We just have to share the glass. Is that alright with you?" Hermione pointed to the little side table behind Harry. He nodded and moved towards the end of the couch to get the plate and the glass. There were three cookies and a half a glass of milk left. Hermione took a cookie and Harry took the other. They set the milk down for a moment, until Harry took a sip. After a while, Hermione did and before they knew it, they were already relishing the very last crumb of their cookie. They looked at each other. 

"What are we going to do now?" Hermione asked, looking at the last sweet treat.

Harry took it and placed it just parallel to Hermione's face. "We are going to cut it in half." Harry let out a playful smile. Hermione did the same and held on the other half of the cookie. 

"One, two, three…" 

Cookie crumbs flew everywhere, large and small chunks swiftly falling to the carpet. Hermione giggled and brushed crumbs that were on her head and pajama sleeve. She then crawled towards Harry to brush his back, which apparently had cookie bits because he dove to the floor. 

They continued brushing, spanking and patting each other's clothes and hair, laughing the whole time. Getting up, Harry then took a pillow and swept the red sofa clean and free from cookie tidbits. 

"Isn't it chilly?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so," Harry replied still doing his work, striking the sofa with the pillow. Playtime was over and they should be both getting rest. Hermione sighed and walked around the room, looking for something. Harry didn't pay much attention to her, when he suddenly felt the cold aura Hermione was talking about. Harry went to where he last saw his friend and just stared at the location. 

The window was open. Hermione was gone.

"So that's how it went. I never got the chance to see who took her, but I was sure it was someone from Voldemort's side. I need to save her. How many days has she been in there? Five? Six? A week?"

Dumbledore just smiled, looking at the books Harry and Ron found. He checked the front, the first few pages and the back. Then he would laugh lightly. Harry did not understand. Dumbledore was like this nice jolly old "Santa" to him, and now, he's like making fun of him sneaking. 

"Harry, you know what you're problem was? You didn't know where to look." Dumbledore took an old brown book, a thin one, and set it on the table. "You should have asked me. If it was for a good cause, you shouldn't run around in the middle of the night." The professor handed him the book. "Maybe this can help you."

Harry took the book, with tears in his eyes. At his first touch, he felt the hope for Hermione's survival. The answer was there. The doors opened a new light, and Harry's face lit up because of joy and pride. Dumbledore just nodded his head, and lightly patted Harry's shoulder. "You'll do fine."   

"Are you sure about this?" Harry was holding his wand, a few charms, some potions, and a couple of other gadgets. But those were not the most important. What was important was the little torn paper in his pocket. 

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine, ok? Just look for me around through the windows and if I say 'go', you say this." Harry gave Ron the spell in his pocket. With a last look, Harry went in the Dark Lord's castle. Ron's hands were clasped together, holding that important parchment in between his fingers. The spell, that was for desperate measures, the big Plan B.

~*~

Harry saw the man behind the bush. Though without his glasses ad even on his upside down state, he could see the lad's best feature: the hair. It was Ron. Finally, he found him, and just in time. Their last chance should work. And it will all happen after Harry's signal. Voldemort was circling around Harry, looking at his face. _'The young boy was looking at space. Foolish!' _He then walked towards Hermione. 

"Let's have a chat. What did my men do to you?"

"I'm guessing you already know. From their looks, it seems like they have been telling everyone they walked past by to. Especially you. They brag all about it in front of you, do they? Those horrid beasts!" Hermione replied, gathering all her courage to face the Dark Lord. 

"Of course, it would be nice if I heard your side." They continued talking to each other, either calmly, like Voldemort's approach, or with a hiss and crisp tone, like what Hermione backfires. They were definitely not having a good conversation. Although this seemed to work for Harry, since Voldemort would be preoccupied for a few moments. 

Ron's hair seemed to float, since Harry's vision was a blur, but then he noticed that the red color stopped, right in front of the window. He then knew Ron found him. 

~*~

Harry clutched the book tightly. He walked with Ron, back to their house, excited to open the spells enclosed in it. He was reminded that those spells were effective, they had lots of benefits, aside from ultimate protection, however, there were consequences to think about. They had to find the best one. 

"How about this one here." Ron pointed. "Makes the killer weaker than the tormented, however, once the moonlight shines on the tormentors face…he would…gain…ultimate pow-never mind," Ron went at the back of their red sofa to get a better view of the spells. 

Harry skipped another page, then another, and another. Soon he was perspiring, finding out that the thin book was running out of pages to flip on, and running out of spells. Ron was cracking his knuckles; his eyes squinted to look for at least one good spell. _'No wonder why_ _Dumbledore kept this for himself' _he thought, biting his lower lip. The spells were very deadly, and the consequences were far better than what would happen to the people who were hurt. 

_'The Spells and Chants for the Enslaved, by Monswick Varploon…Varploon, I heard his name somewhere… these spells… How am I sure that these spells could help? The spells have effects so deadly; Voldemort would become the ultimate ruler in the wizard world._' He flipped the last page where five spells were. His finger pointed at the top, beside the first spell and slid it down. The second spell… 

"Ron, look at this. If captured by a dark lord," they looked at each other, "or any person with evil intentions, this spell can be recited. Once the spell was said, the victim or victims are transported to a new dimension, somewhere far and oblivious to the wizard world. The tormentor cannot hurt them, in anyway. They would be immune. However," Harry inhaled deeply, ready for another consequence, hard to explain. "Once in that different world, their memory will be gone." Harry's heart sank. _Lose your memory? Everything? _ "To retrieve their past, they are to find the place where the spell was chanted to them, either by themselves or with help and go in it. Once in there, their recollection will take place, yet their immunity from the tormentors will be gone, and they would be vulnerable to the evil plans set for them once more."

Both just looked at the spell and it's description. Then Harry handed the book to him. He went up to the boy's dormitory. When he returned, he was holding a piece of paper and a quill. He copied the spell and then closed the book. 

"Harry, are you really sure that's the best spell? I mean, losing your memory would make you forget about You-know-Who."

"But we are going to be safe from his cruel plans."

"But his henchmen could lure you to him. That doesn't count."

"And that's where you come along. Ron, you are going to find us and help us. No matter what we say or do to you. There isn't any better spell in there. I even read one where the victims are to be turned to alligators forever! This is it. The last choice." 

Ron just nodded his head, speechless. He never knew that once this was said, his best friends lives are in his hands. Not to mention the life of the 'boy who lived'. This kind of responsibility was never given to him before, yet he understood.

"Do you know this Varploon guy? I think I saw his name before… in an article from the Daily Prophet!" 

"Find that article Ron, while I look at these books." Harry and Ron were in the restricted section again. 

"You know Harry, I think we should talk to Professor Dumbledore first. He said so himself, right?" Ron was leafing page after page, finding the article Harry said he had seen the name on. 

"Ron, this isn't about saving Hermione. It's about knowing the background of this Varploon guy. The book that he wrote wasn't in the restricted section. It was with Dumbledore. You see how important that book could be?" Harry opened a thick blue book ad opened it halfway. He continued to flip the pages, as fast as he could, but as quietly as he can. This time, they decided not to go back to their headquarters, since they might run into people again along the way. They stayed on a dark corner. Ron sat beside him, clinging on to Harry's Invisibility Cloak, just in case. 

_Varploon, Monswick. _

_One of the best wizards ever known, Varploon has conducted many experiments and spells that could finally defeat the Dark Lord, or weaken him at the least. His studies have resulted into a book, which is the only copy and is now being held safe by his good friend, Albus Dumbledore, one of the few the Dark Lord cannot reach. Varploon's spells and potions were said to be effective yet were kept secret, since his spells and such had very dangerous effects especially to the ones who use it. You-know-who has been looking for him for many centuries, either to get his compilation of magical experiments or to kill him because of anger, we do not know up to this day. However, he was finally captured one night and was put to death through the Avada Kedavra curse. Many people were greatly disappointed at the loss of the clever wizard, who has, through his creations, even though having bad and strange effects, inspired people to continue his work and hope for the peace in the chaotic situation we experience with the Dark Lord. _

            "At least we have a little background information about this guy. Tomorrow we go to the castle. You know what to do. You could stop looking now, Ron. The recent article was about his death, I think, or something in commemoration to him." Harry closed the book, placed it back on the third shelf where it was sitting and then went underneath the cloak. 

~*~

"Say it!!! Now!!! Go!!!" Harry's scream was heard through the room. Hermione and Voldemort stopped their small talk and stared at the injured boy, looking like he was going… well…insane. Shouting to himself, saying go a number of times, his arms and feet shaking. 

            Suddenly, Hermione was wrapped in a thin coat of pink and purple, two beautiful, mystical colors. Voldemort tried to grab her dress, but his hand went through, Hermione was becoming a spirit. Hermione teary-eyed was looking at Harry. _'Is this freedom?' _

            Voldemort ran to Harry, who was also being surrounded by the thin sheet of colors. Voldemort's white hand reached out to the boy, but he was free from his chains. He ran towards the lad, but he passed through him. 

            "What is this? Is it Varploon's magic? Rage was flowing on his veins, it was seen in his face. He tried a number of spells, yet nothing worked. It just passed through their bodies and disappeared in a spark. 

            Harry could not believe it. It did work-they are left untouched, and are going to stay that way. Like little precious collectibles, they would not be smeared, not a fingerprint could be in contact with them; yet like a sheet of glass, even if it doesn't break nor doesn't get touched, just a breath of air can make it misty. Harry remembered the big consequence they are about to face.  Whilst their memory lasts, Harry walked over to the table where his gadgets were. He took this little necklace he had brought. Engraved in it was a little 'h'.  

            "Hermione, I am so sorry about the turn of events. This was not what we expected. I hope you would understand. Please wear this or at least keep it wherever you go; it will help you through what we are to do. This will help lead to the answer. Hold on to it." He gave Hermione the necklace, dropping it in Hermione's cupped arms. Hermione was not able to understand; yet she realized Harry's sacrifice. She held his hand and slowly hugged him, lightly, gratefully, lovingly. Time seemed to slow down amongst the two, and all Voldemort could do was watch, helpless. The colorful light faded away and so did the two, still hugging, knowing that no matter what place they end up in, apart or together, they would find each other. 

            A little lady opened her eyes. She looked around, in the parks of London. She had slept in a bench, all through the night. She outstretched her arms and yawned. A little necklace fell form her hands. She picked it up and moved it closer to her, a look of confusion and curiosity in her face. It was odd. A little 'h' was imprinted in it. 

"This is useless. I'll just throw this out," She reminded herself, when a realization struck her. _Who am I again? _

~*~

A/N: Well, that was the longest yet. Well, I was rushed because I just had to post this since I might be gone for weeks and there was a double chapter for chapter 2. I think I clicked it twice when I uploaded it so I just had to finish this one and replace it with the chapter 2 in the space where the third was supposed to be. I'm just a beginner in this uploading stuff, so go easy on me. (Fanfiction.net please don't delete my account…) I'm sorry if you guys got confused, in the double chapter and in the flashback issue so here is my final explanation.

The part where Harry was looking for books and them being caught by McGonagall was a flashback. Then Harry telling the story of him and Hermione cuddling was a flashback of the flashback, you know like, Harry was telling the story to Dumbledore. Get it? Then the part with the Varploon guy and the Gryffindor duo looking for the best spell was also a flashback of Harry's research about the man. I just had to include that since the spell has to have an origin.  In other words, this chapter was just full of flashbacks and the ones inside the symbol (~*~) are the present scenes. So do you understand? I hope you do. Please tell me what you think. Trashy or not, whatever, but of course it would be nice if you made it constructive criticism and not a flame.  

This really isn't one of my best chapters, I don't know why, but I liked the previous chapters better. Maybe it's because this was full of conversations and such. You know, the ones with the (") and (")…quotation marks…that's it!!! Wow, writing about this memory loss stuff makes me forget certain things. I got to go easy on this one.  So R/R and pardon me for saying a lot. Oh, and if you are really uncomfortable with the names of the wizards and such, it was because I invented them. I'm sorry if they're a bit out of this world but you wouldn't hear much about them after this. Sorry for misspelled words and grammatical errors. Bye!!!


	4. What it Means

Disclaimer: People, places, things you already know are not mine, they belong to JK Rowling.  
  
A/N: For me, this is update mania. As you know, our computer has this permanent damage of not allowing me to upload chapters, and now, using the computers in school, I am able to upload again. During vacation, I already wrote the chapters of my stories, so all I have to do is post them, however, I need to get an amount of reviews before I post a new one. It gets me motivated and full of hope that people read my stories, those reviews you give, so please, please review. Ten reviews wouldn't hurt, just a simple "nice, great job, please continue" would make my day. Of course, if you want to add to that, why not? If you are a fellow author, you would know what I mean.  
  
Anyways, I had to reread my fic because I completely forgot about how I wrote it and such. This is the fourth chapter; I hope you like it, please read it and review. It's now about the lovers' struggle to find out their identity.  
  
  
  
1 What it Means  
  
By Prowess  
  
  
  
'Okay, don't panic,' the young lady said to self, repeatedly. The thought of not knowing her identity made a bit shaky and worried. Where am I going to go? What was I doing e? Who were with me? A lot of questions kept popping in her head, which eventually made her panic more. She was in the verge of tears, knowing no one, looking at the people passing by, hoping she would recognize someone, or someone would recognize her. However, no one seemed to know her nor come near, she was like a freak.  
  
She tried deep breathing, just to calm self. 'I can be independent.' She reminded herself over and over, to erase the fact she was scared. 'I can go through this, even if I am alone.' She stood up from we she was sitting, and heard a little clink. Looking down, she saw the necklace, the only clue she has about self. Something in her head made her quickly grab it, hiding it from anyone, maybe because it was a link to her identity, of maybe because it would help remember someone. Walking around, she passed by buildings, a candy store, a grocery store, a flower shop, hoping that anyone would just suddenly scream out her name and hurry towards her. She bumped into a lot of people too, at first bumping accidentally but then, thinking this was a nice strategy, bumped every one, just so people would look at her.  
  
After hours of "hunting," she decided to sit down near the staircase of one building. She was terribly exhausted, and to top it all, she didn't know any person she passed by. She looked up to see we she was situated at, and to her surprise, her heart leapt with joy. She didn't know why she was so excited upon seeing the bookstore, but she stood up and looked at the books on display. What she saw though startled her. Te were two things she suddenly noticed, the first one, a purple book, It had silver lettering engraved, the words spelling out a title that made her heart beat faster.  
  
"Witches and Wizards alike: What would happen if they live among us?" she whispered, her hand clutching her dress, which surprised her even more.  
  
The second thing she noticed was the shabby clothes she wore. They were torn and old, and she realized that it could be the reason nobody talked to her. She was too busy looking for a familiar face, she didn't notice how she looked. It made her realize too, that no one just left her at the park. Someone took her there.  
  
This made her panic more. 'What if she was raped or kidnapped by someone? What did the necklace mean?' She was so desperate for answers that she began to cry. As the tears spilled from her pale face, she brought her arms up to wipe her cheeks dry. What she saw made her cry and worry more. Her hands, just above the area we check our pulse, was very white, and a deep mark was around the skin, like she was tied for millions of years. Her hands were very white and lifeless, like no blood flowed through them for days, and it hurt her more that not only did she not know self, she didn't know what happened to her either. She could be sick, and left there to die, she could be raped and left with or without a child, she doesn't know. It just made her cry even more, her sobs more aching than before. An old man who happened to be cleaning the walk approached her.  
  
"Do you need help lady?" The young woman looked up, puffy eyes continuously shedding unstoppable tears, and she nodded her head, unable to speak.  
  
"Well, I have a young niece looking for a roommate. I reckon you are lost. Would you like to stay there for a moment?" She was so happy, it was as if a little angel came down to her and carried her across the sky. She stood up, with the aid of the old man, and started to follow him.  
  
"Sir?" she asked, her voice shaky and scared. "Is it possible that you know who I am?" Her heart skipped a beat, waiting for the answer that could probably change her state.  
  
"No." he replied. Her heart sank, last hope gone. She would never find out about her identity. "But," the old man added. "I know you now." His smile was sincere, and it didn't fail to put a smile across his new friend's face.  
  
"My mind says, it's still not enough, but my heart says it's more than that." She replied and started telling him about her memory loss.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Well, I just phoned my niece. She is very excited to meet you. Although, you both have to work to pay the rent." The old man started.  
  
"Oh, it would be nice to have a job, Mr. Strome. That way, I could bump into someone who knows me here." She happily agreed.  
  
"Call me Kevin, dear. One more thing, though. You still don't have a name. What do you want to be called?"  
  
"Honestly, I don't know, maybe you could pick for me."  
  
"Well, I had a daughter, she passed away years ago. Should have been your age if she was alive, about sixteen or seventeen. Her name is Lizette. You remind me of her." He replied, a little teary-eyed.  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't want to make you feel sad because of it. I'm very sorry, about her. I mean, whenever you would call me, you would feel hurt. I can't bear to see you sad." She cried.  
  
"Please, it would make me feel so much better to call you that more than anything. It's like as if she was here. She would also have liked that." The girl smiled.  
  
"It would be an honor, Mr. Strome." She replied. "My name is now Lizette. Lizette Strome. How is that?" she questioned her foster father.  
  
"It fits perfectly, my dear. And you will now call me Uncle Kevin, just to pry out from suspicious eyes." He replied. "Well then. Shall we go now?"  
  
"Uncle Kevin? What would I wear?" She asked, looking at her tatters. It doesn't look like a wonderful sight that's for sure.  
  
"Well, my niece, Evette, stayed here last week, perhaps she left some clothes she doesn't use anymore."  
  
He opened a trunk, which to her looked familiar, although she can't picture where she saw it. Still it was like one of the few objects she saw everyday before she lost sense of herself. There were lots of clothes there, dresses, shirts and pants, and Lizette, not caring if they are hand-me- downs, is very delighted to wear comfortable clothes once again.  
  
"Now I know how Ron feels!" she blurted out, unknowingly. Kevin looked up at him with his half-moon shaped glasses sparkling because of the light.  
  
"What did you say dear?" he asked, wondering if she had her memory back.  
  
Lizette was unable to answer. "Well, I don't know. It came from my mouth, suddenly. What does this mean?" she asked. "Am I going to get my memory soon?"  
  
"I don't know Lizette. I don't know."  
  
  
  
  
  
"Here's your side of the room, it's a good thing we have an extra bed. Mom will give you sheets and a pillow later. Just make yourself comfortable, I'll get chips." A black-haired lad stood there, looking around a room.  
  
"Thanks a lot Brian. I appreciate the help." He looked back at the blonde guy behind him, who was holding the doorknob.  
  
"No problem Stephen. Anything for my new brother." He flashed a smile and hurried on.  
  
  
  
Going down, Brian passed by his mother, a blonde haired plump woman in a pink apron and his father, a brown haired sales manager.  
  
"Brian, dear, how is he doing? Is he comfortable?" his mother asked.  
  
"He's adjusting mom. Weird though, losing your memory. That sucks." Brian answered.  
  
"Don't worry my boy, he'll get over it soon enough. Matter of time before everything goes back to him." His son shrugged and hurried to the kitchen to get food.  
  
"Hector, the question is, how long?" Miranda, his wife, asked worryingly.  
  
"Come on, honey. We've been through this. The kid landed on our backyard, a few inches of the picket fence. Good thing his skin wasn't that scarred. This must be some sign. He needs help. He can't turn to anyone but us. Besides the kids are very comfortable with him."  
  
"I wonder though, did you see his forehead?" Miranda asked intriguingly.  
  
"Quite peculiar. But a little familiar."  
  
  
  
  
  
"Are you ready?" An anxious Lizette was smoothing her skirt and fixing her hat. She looked up and smiled.  
  
"Yes. I'm ready." She replied, her voice a bit shaky but still calm.  
  
Knock. Knock. Knock.  
  
The door was opened and Lizette saw a woman that looks a few years older than her.  
  
"You must be Evette. Hi," Lizette started shaking the hand Evette offered her. "Oh, I hope you don't mind the clothes. They're from…"  
  
"No need to explain," she replied in a charming tone. "Come in, Lizette, right? Uncle told me the whole story." Lizette was warmly welcomed and for the first time that day, for the first time after her memory was lost, she had a home.  
  
"Well then, ladies. 'I'm off to work. I still have to clean the park." Kevin tipped his hat and walked out the door.  
  
  
  
"This is your room, I'm on the other side. Here' s the kitchen. There's actually two bathrooms but only one's working because there's a flush problem on the other." Evette pointed at a locked door. "If you'll need anything else, just call me." She smiled.  
  
"It's so nice of you to let me stay." Lizette started, her eyes roaming around the place.  
  
"Oh, I'm glad someone would stay. I would've have shared this with anyone. The landlady said she'd throw me out if I didn't get a partner. This was the only room, and of all the apartments, it's one I can't afford. She gave me a week though. And today's the last day. I was so lucky you came along and I didn't have to ask my old boyfriend to come like I was a desperate beggar."  
  
"I was so lucky Kevin came along, or else I would've been sleeping on the street. Or maybe I would've ended up in prison." They hugged each other and spent the night talking about all they can remember, especially for Lizette, getting to know each other. Lizette never thought her day would end up like this. Even if she didn't have her memory, even if she still didn't know what anything means, the necklace, which was now around her neck, at least she had a home and at least she had people she could call family.  
  
  
  
He lied down his mattress, his hands supporting his head. "Stephen Asmond." He whispered again and again, scratching a lighting shaped scar at his forehead. What does this scar mean? And this necklace, letter h?  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: There I finished my chapter; one of many I was going to upload. I hope that there would be ten to fifteen reviews before I continue. That would be very kind of a reader to do. I hope you liked this one. Remember that Lizette is Hermione, Stephen is Harry. I had to change their names. It would be far more than coincidence if I didn't. I do have a hard time typing, most of the time I still type Hermione and Harry so if you see any just tell me. Draco wouldn't be far off the picture, so please review so I could continue. It all depends on you so please, please review and tell me what you think. Constructive Criticism appreciated. 


	5. Start of a New Life

A/N: Hello! It's me again! Well, I've decided to post once more, so here it is. By the way, I want to thank all the people who reviewed! It means so much to me that people would take time to review this fic. Anyways, here is the continuation of What's Held Within. This is what has been happening so far:

-Harry was caught while trying to save Hermione

-They got a special visit from Voldemort.

-Ron uttered a spell that made them lose their memory but immune to Voldemort.

-Hermione is now Lizette and Harry is Stephen. 

So there. This will definitely be continued, as long as you keep reviewing. I hope the fic builds up! Happy Reading !

Chapter 5: The Start of A New Life

"Yes uncle. Don't worry. It'll be fun. Besides, I have to have a job. Ok. Love you too." Lizette put down the phone. Today was an exciting day for her. She would finally get a job and get paid and have money.

"And work late and meet disgusting people with their bratty children. Working in the café isn't as easy you know." Evette reminded. She had offered Lizette job at the café (where she met her lousy ex-boyfriend) and Lizette gladly accepted. There was this sudden rush of excitement and glee in her face. 

"Oh, it would be fun. Come on. There would be salary and free hot chocolate and pastries. You said so yourself." Lizette reassured. 

"That is just because the daughter of the café owner is my childhood friend. We were both- never mind." She dismissed the idea. "Anyway, you'd be meeting them soon and I'm very positive they will like you." Lizette never felt any better. After a week not knowing herself, a wave of opportunities had been given to her. 

She nodded at her statement and held Evette's hand like a little girl. Together they walked out of the apartment and hurried to the busy road. 

It was very windy and Lizette's hat kept being blown away, but after two crossings and five times going back a few meters to catch a naughty hat, they were standing in front of the café. It was called 'Hayes' Cup'…

"It was named after who again?" Lizette asked like and innocent child.

"After Kirstin's dad's uncle. I don't think that has any significance, well at least not for you."

"I don't know. Maybe it's just because I'm so eager to find out who I am that I really want to grasp every thing that I can. It could be a link to my memory you know." She reasoned out. Evette seemed to not believe but then squeezed Lizette's hand and said, "What are we waiting for? Let's go in!"

Pushing the glass doors open, Lizette felt a sudden warmth like she'd never experienced before.

A wave of coffee aroma tickled her nostrils and the smell of sweet pastry followed behind. 

"Good Morning everyone!" Evette cried out. People around greeted her back.

"Wow, it seems everybody knows you here." Lizette commented.

"Of course! And in a few days they'll know you too. How's your coffee Mrs. Brown?" Evette asked and old lady sitting near the door.

"Well, my dear, it's a little bit sweeter today, but I like it anyway." The old lady replied. "Do I know you child?" She asked Lizette.

"Well, um," Lizette stuttered. 

"She's new, Mrs. Brown. Don't worry, you will get acquainted in a day or so." Evette replied with a warm smile. Lizette finally understood why Evette wanted her to work there.

'It's like on big happy family' she thought, and, wiping a forming tear away, followed her stepsister. Evette wanted her to experience the love that she has unfortunately forgotten, and she made the right choice. Lizette couldn't have imagined working anywhere else. 

"Is Mr. Hayes already here?" Evette called out as she wore an olive green apron with the Hayes Cup logo. 

"He's in his office, talking to a client." 

Evette pulled her friend toward the door, just as she heard her manager talk to the other person inside. Like a nosy neighbor, she pressed her ear at the door. Lizette did the same.

"I'm very sorry, but due to your current state, I'm afraid I cannot hire you. Please come back next time when you have more information."

"Yes, sir. I understand, the man answered. 

"You can use that back door," Hayes answered, and in a few seconds the sound of the door closing was heard. Evette turned the knob and went in. 

"Mr. Hayes, look who is here." Lizette smiled faintly and greeted the old man. Evette was beaming. "This is Evette, my stepsister. The one I told you about." Hayes didn't seem to know the girl but upon the signal, he knew instantly. 

"Well, how are you?" he warmly asked. 

"Fine, sir," Lizette replied, rather shyly.

"Well, do you want to work here?" he asked, quite frankly. Lizette thought she would be interviewed. Instead she answered. 

"Oh, yes, please. I would be honored." 

"Well, you can start today then. How about that? You go in the counters with Evette. I'll introduce you to my daughter soon." He replied puffing his pipe.

"I'll introduce her, sir. Thank you, again." Evette pulled Lizette's hand again and they went out. 

Going out the door, Lizette can't believe her luck. Unfortunately she was too excited she tripped on her own feet and bumped a red-haired girl. She looked out and unconsciously blurted out,

"Ginny!" 

The girl looked at her curiously. And so did Evette. "Liz," she started, "that's Kirstin." Lizette was dumbfounded. _Who in her forgotten world is Ginny?_  She can't talk, her face very confused. Instead Kirstin held out her hand. 

"You must be Lizette. Hi, I'm Kirstin." She had a very warm smile. Lizette shook her hand and smiled. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what I just said." Lizette embarrassingly whispered. 

"Oh, it's alright. Don't worry about it." Kirstin replied. "Well I have to go, daddy called for me." 

"Oh, okay," Evetter answered. "I'll show her around then." Pushing Lizette in front of her they went back to the café area and behind the counters. 

"A few of us operate this place. There's me and Kirstin here taking orders, and Baz there for delivery. Sometimes helps out too. Also, Ms. Mary Rose there , the baker and cook, in the kitchen. Everything here is freshly made. You'll get to meet the others soon, and you shouldn't forget the customers."

"Great. Let's start!" Lizette looked at the laminated copy of the products and their prices, trying to memorize as much as she could so she won't always be looking down and instead would be greeting people with a smile. 

"Ok, I can do this." She whispered, under pressure since it's her first day at work. "Good morning, ay I help you…."

"I'd like a bagel…"

"Pure black coffee…"

"Ham and cheese sandwich, extra lettuce, no mustard, thin sliced tomatoes and skip the cucumbers.."

"A donut.."

"Extra ketchup…"

Handing the ketchup bottle, Lizette felt a bit exhausted but happy. Her first day at work was a complete success. A young kid asked for some cream cheese for her bagel. 

"You seem nice lady," she innocently commented. 

"Why thank you little girl," she replied with a smile as the girl was pulled back by her mother, who looked like in a rush to go home. 

"Was that a day or what?" Evette asked. It was already late and only a few were there. 

"Hey girls. How was the first day?" Kirstin asked. Her elbows resting on the counter. 

"It was great." Lizette answered with a chuckle. 

"Well, you haven't met Jessie and Reg yet. They'll work tomorrow until Sunday." Kirstin replied. "And now it's home for both of you. Tonight is my night shift, which reminds me, what day of the week do you want your night shift to be Lizette?"

"Oh, any day available." 

"Will the night after tomorrow be alright." Lizette looked at Evette.

"Sure!" she exclaimed. 

"Great then. Good night!" 

Lizette never felt better. She has a nice job, is surrounded by great friends, it was like she never lost her memory at all. Walking home with her stepsister, she remembered the events of the day.

Evette needn't ask her friend if she had fun. It was clearly seen in Lizette's hopeful eyes, that she has found happiness in the place Evette called her second home. 

"How was the job search Steph?" 

"Well, got a job at the bookstore. Part time at the café by the street." The raven haired boy answered. 

"Great job!" 

"Yep, can't wait for work tomorrow." Stephen answered his eyes looking at the ceiling, imagining what could ever happen the next day…

A/N: Hah! Finished the chapter within a day, the fastest I have made yet. Please, please review!!!

I'm taking this opportunity to thank reviewers….just to occupy space…

I'll thank the most recent ones…if you review again, I'll credit you again! YaY!

Belle: gee, thanks for the review…I'm posting, I'm posting…I' hope you liked it…

The one w/o the pen name: thanks for the review as well…how'd did you do that thin without the name? Nameless people review me in other fics…so thanks anyways! Hope you like this one…

Juliane: I read your fic again! I'll try to review.. I can't in our computer, it has a problem..

There! REVIEW REVIEW!! Bye!!


	6. Was it you?

A/N: I wanted to upload this fic so badly, I just had to write it NOW. So if you see any grammatical errors down there, my apologies, young and avid reader. It's the start of our break and I'm ready to go stir up a new chapter, plus a new fic here and there. So there…I almost forgot the whole plot of this story, I was so busy creating the angst mood for "Not Yet Forgotten" and still, even in my very hectic schedule, upload a Christmas fic ("What's Snow Like?") for you all. However, I'm taking my time today and will be adding another chapter for this story. I hope you enjoy this, watch out for the acknowledgements and recent updates below! See you at the bottom!

Before I forget…

Disclaimer: How many times do I have to reiterate? Harry and everyone, everything, everywhere related to him will not be mine! I just borrow them and play around, and the result? Why, a very lovely piece of fanfiction, if I do say so myself. 

**CHAPTER 6: Was it You?**

By Prowess

Beep..beep..beep 

Stephen lazily slumped his clenched hand on the alarm clock. It was six o'clock in the morning, exactly one week, four days, ten hours, thirteen minutes twenty seconds, and counting, since he was found and had a life. Well, at least one that he remembered. He groggily sat up and gave out a big yawn, arms stretched, eyes tightly shut, then went down for breakfast.

"Morning, bro," Brian mumbled as chewed his bacon and eggs. Stephen smiled, a little bit  more awake. 

"Good morning, Stephen. How are you feeling?" Miranda asked.

"I'm fine, aunt Myr. I'm just a little nervous, since I start work today." Stephen sat down as he was handed a plate.

"But, of course, how can we forget? Just be sure you have a great time okay?" the woman warmly encouraged.

"Okay." Stephen, replied before taking a big spoonful of his food.

"Good Morning Hayes!" Lizette beamed out loud. Evette had given her the honor of giving the entrance yell, a Hayes greeting to all the early birds in the café. It was warm and bustling inside, as Lizette wore her apron and took her spot in the counter. 

"Let's start working!" Evette excitedly mused.

"Eve," Lizette started. "Is that a new café?"

Evette squinted. "Yep. I read that on the newspaper today. I think it opens this morning."

"It sure looks like that. Look at the crowd."

"Don't worry about it. Hayes will always be number one around here. People are just curious."

"I don't know. I've got a big feeling someone close to me is there. Someone, I know…"

"Good Morning, Mr. Piper," a raven-haired young man entered the blue decorated office. 

"Ah, young Stephen. Come in. Today's your first day of work isn't it so?" Stephen nodded.

"Well, I'll assign you to do the 'waitering', and take care of orders. Good thing you came. There isn't much people interested in working in this café since it's new and across the famous Hayes. Well, we might just break that stereotype. I'm sure needing your help."

"Thanks Mr. Piper." Stephen answered the almost bald, stout man. "I'll get set."

Stephen wore a yellow orange apron, one of the main colors of the café, the other being blue. He took a sniff of the cocoa beans, and the hot coffee it turns into. Looking at the cakes and pastries, he felt contented. He produced a smile as customers came rushing in. Before getting distracted with customers, Stephen got a quick glance at the other café, Hayes.

"Alright, here is you scrumptious blueberry pie and chocolate milkshake, little girl." Lizette excitedly handed over a small kiddie tray. It was nearly lunchtime and since today, Lizette would be taking her night shift, she would have an early break. 

"It's breaktime for you." Kirstin reminded handing over a plate to Evette. "Eve, It's from Ms. Scheim."

"Ms. Mary Rose, your steak needs more worstershire sauce!" Evette yelled, knowing just what to say. 

"Well, gotta go somewhere for my break. And I know just the place." She beamed.

"I bet you are going to that new Piper's café." 

"I'm just going to be buzzing around. You know, spy a bit." She mischievously commented, her hand behind her back. "See you guys later." She waved back as the two girls said goodbye to her. 

Lizette cupped her hands as she crossed the street, her eyes set on the dark chocolate brown door of Piper's café. She held the big horizontal bar and pushed it, then going inside. A wave of hot chocolate aroma tickled her senses as she walked to the seats in the counter. Lizette looked around and knew that it was just like Hayes, busy, and bursting with great foods. It was just as noisy as well. The difference was just that Pipers' specialty was hot chocolate and brownies, as opposed to Hayes coffee and pastries. Of course the best test of all was the taste test. Since, it just opened, a lot of customers were in line, and she was a lucky enough to have a seat by the waiters. She didn't have to squeeze in.

"Welcome to Pipers. May I help you?" came a voice a little far away from Lizette. "Hey! Stephen! Take care of those customers in the other side!" the voice echoed. A guy, whom Lizette assumed to be Stephen, replied and went to her side.

"Hi. Good Morning Ma'am. Welcome to Pipers. May I ask what you need?" Lizette turned to the man's direction. 

As she caught a glimpse of his emerald green eyes, Lizette squinted and watched the man closely. He was doing the same. They stared at each other for a few seconds, trying to decipher the feeling they felt upon laying eyes on a stranger. It seemed as if they had known each other for eons. What was this happening to them? 

"Do I know you?" Lizette finally broke the silence, her innocent eyes staring at his. Stephen, was still gazing, but then looked away, shocked.

"No. I suppose we've never met before." He answered, stuttering.

"Really," Lizette answered back. "Anyway, I would like a nice mug of hot chocolate and a pack of cherry brownies. For take out." Lizette tried to smile, but a huge wave of curiosity was splashing in her head, she couldn't help but think of a place where she met this man. _Where did I meet…Stephen??? _

Stephen was thinking of the same thing. He felt scared, since when he laid his eyes upon her, this weird name got stuck in his head. What's even scarier is that the name starts with an H, the letter on the necklace he had in his possession. Could it be that this was a link to his identity? And how weird is the name…

_Hermione? _

Lizette was tapping the counter when her bag of brownies and her hot chocolate were handed to her. She gave the money as she was about to leave when….

"Wait, Hermione!" someone shouted. It was Stephen.

Lizette's heart pounded as she turned around. Though there were still a lot of customers, Lizette managed to push her way through back to her original seat, which she sat on a split second before someone else did. She grabbed Stephen's sleeve.

"What did you call me?" she asked in a half irritated, half curious tone.

"What?" Stephen asked in reply.

"What do you mean what?!? You have completely forgotten what you said, when I, of all the hustle around here, distinctly heard it?"  Lizette answered back.

"I don't remember lady, I'm really sor-"

"Listen, Stephen, whoever you are,"  Lizette started, pulling Stephen's sleeve tighter, "I don't know what is happening to me when I look at you. But just last week, I experienced a tragedy that I still can't bring myself to look back at. I don't know why, I am, for any reason, attracted to you. However, if you are just messing around with me and my identity and calling me names, I suggest that you just lay off and leave me alone! I don't need a joker around here, not in this stage of my life! If you only knew.." she reprimanded the young man who just stared at her. Before he was able to speak, the woman stood up and hurriedly walked out the door.

"If I only knew what?" he asked himself, just before an old lady nagged him for her order. 

Lizette slammed the door as she entered Hayes once more. She still had a few minutes off, but she decided to go back to Hayes and share her food before the chocolate becomes cold. 

"Hey, girls. Here's a little hot chocolate and some brownies from Pipers." Evette and Kirstin rushed to her, excited to taste Piper's products. 

"Wow, this cherry brownies are really good," Evette commented, taking a few more bites.

"Eh! But their hot chocolate is too sweet." Lizette added, as she took a glass of water. 

"Go back there and get some more samples. Let's show some to daddy." Kirstin mused, wiping a counter. 

"Are you kidding? I'm never going back there again!"Lizette replied, throwing the Piper's paper bag. 

"Why, not? You were excited to go there a few moments ago," Evette remarked. "You said you felt your memory might somehow be connected to it," she added, imitating that weird faraway look that Lizette showed.

"I am not going back there because of a guy who made fun of me. He called me names and forgot them, immediately. Why would someone call me this weird name and forget it in an instant?" 

"What did he call you anyway?" 

"Some weird, medieval name, I think. Hermione? Hermaione? Something like that…It freaked me out." 

"Too bad. Well, get back working. You better get that off your head. Have a cherry pastry." Kirstin patted Lizette's back, as she placed her green apron once again and took her place in the counter.

"Professor Dumbledore!" a young man shouted, panting. "I've tried looking for them around the wizard world. They are nowhere to be found!" 

"They wouldn't be here young Ron. Not in the wizarding world. They are probably in some muggle town, lost and in need of us." Dumbledore's glasses glimmered.

"I am so sorry, headmaster. I shouldn't have recited that spell."

"Of course not. Had you not recited it, they both would have been permanently separated from us. There is nothing you did wrong. However, your mission is still not finished."

"Headmaster, I am willing to find my closest friends for the rest of my sixth year, if you will allow me to."

"Are you sure you are willing to do this? There are many things you would miss in school." Dumbledore reminded that young Gryffindor.

"I am positive, professor. I feel that it is my duty to find my friends."

"Very well, then, you may start the day after tomorrow, Ron. You are truly worthy of being Harry's friend and companion. May Godric watch over you."

"Lord, he has escaped. He is nowhere in sight. I assigned many followers to find him and the woman. They are still searching." Draco Malfoy had entered Voldemort's room.

"Do not worry, Malfoy." Voldemort's voice echoed. "Tell those who seek him to stop. Tomorrow your mission starts." He let out an evil smile. " I have found him."

A/N: Whew! Hope you liked this chap! See you next time!

Acknowledgements: 

Recent Updates:


	7. Still Confused

A/N: Oh my gosh. I thought that this would be completely forgotten. But THANK YOU SO MUCH for reviewing constantly (especially anonymous). I hope you don't get too upset. You see, I was SOOO busy for the past few months, and I thought that because it was such a long period of time, that my stories would be buried beneath once more under the growing pile of Harry Hermione stories. Looks like I was in for a surprise. Anyways, I've gathered my strength to quickly whip up a new chapter for this story. When I looked at it, I actually got scared because I don't know the story anymore, which freaked me out so I had to read everything again. So yes, it was a LOONNG period of time but I'm glad I'm back to fanfiction writing. With all that cleared. Let the story start NOW!

Disclaimer: I had to write this first. Sorry. 

Ok. It starts NOW.

Chapter 7: Still Confused

By Prowess

"Hey, Lizette, want to come with me? I'm going to Piper's to get a few other treats." Kirsten tugged Lizette's sleeve.

"Hey, I want their blueberry cheesecake. I heard it was 'exceptional'." Evette mimicked. Everyone laughed. She was taking the nightshift that evening.

"I told you I want to go home. And I also told you I was never setting foot on that shop again."

"But still you insist on looking at it, falling into a daze. Face it. He just might know what you are looking for." Kirsten replied, tugging on her again. "Now take your apron of and hurry! Come on. My treat."

Lizette practically had to be dragged to Piper's, and she was quite surprised at how strong Kirsten was, pulling her across the street in a few seconds while the cars were still breezing by. She leaned on the door, and moved her arm a bit.

"Ugh. Don't you ever pull me again." She replied exhausted.

"In that case, don't you ever disagree with me then. And don't plan on turning back. Your other arm seems to be in need of stretching-" She was cut short when Lizette ran to the door and opened it.

"I'm going in, I'm going in…"

Kirsten looked around. "Hmmm…not bad. Although they did copy a few styles from us. At least they don't open as early and close as late as we do. And they don't have any entrance yell."

"Yeah. Can we please go and just get it over with?" Lizette asked impatiently.

"Where's the Stephen guy anyway?" She asked looking around.

"Nowhere. He probably went home already." Lizette answered hastily.

"Maybe he's in the counter." Kirsten walked towards the seat beside the one Lizette sat on the last time she went there. Lizette sat on her original seat. 

"Excuse me. I'm looking for Stephen please? I would like him to take my order. Is he still around?" Kirsten asked. Lizette grunted. 'As if he's coming' she thought.

"Yes, someone called for me?" a black-haired guy came to the two ladies, when Kirsten raised her hand. Lizette stood agape. How long did the lunatic work anyway?

"That would be me," Kirsten answered. "My friend here and I would like to order three of your special blends of the night and two slices of blueberry cheesecake and cherry brownies for this darling." She patted Lizette on the shoulder. Lizette couldn't keep her glare off of him.  He was sure shocked. Boy is he in it for now. 

"Oh-Alright." Stephen managed to say. He was surprised that brown-haired woman remembered her. And even more when he noticed she was still angry. Fuming, actually. It seemed like her anger got worse after the incident. 

"What name shall I put on the cups to identify your order?" Stephen asked.

"Oh," Kirsten looked at her side and motioned. "Lizette."

Stephen knew what was going on, seeing it in Lizette's face. Instead he just didn't react. The girl was too mad at him already. He placed all their treats in a brown paper bag with the Piper's logo in it and handed it over to the other girl. "Here's your bill."

"Oh, dear, I think I don't have enough money. Lizette, honey, would you be a dear and wait for me. It'll just be a while." Kirsten, stood from her seat and went away, ignoring Lizette's 'buts' and pleas for mercy. A woman tried to sit next to her when she glared.

"This seat's taken," she replied coldly and flatly. 

"Whoa, you don't need to be that upset you know." Stephen commented. 

"I am not finished with you!" she snapped. "If you think that I've completely forgotten what happened, you are so wrong. I can't believe that this would be one of the things I'd remember for the rest of my life given my condition."

"Well, what exactly happened –"

"And don't you think I'm going to tell you anything! I am just here to accompany and wait for my friend who left me to get some change. When she gets back, I'm going to get out of here as quickly as I can. Got that!?!" 

Stephen couldn't do anything else but gulp and give a small nod.

Lizette kept quiet. She crossed her arms and started to wait. 

"Um…Miss?" Stephen started.

"What!?!" she answered back.

"Well, I reckon you've been waiting for a long time now. Do you like anything else? My treat." He suggested.

"My friend already ordered for me, and as you can see it was her treat." She replied, glaring at him.

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened okay? I really didn't know what happened. I didn't mean to hurt you. Okay. So, let's start over okay? Hi. My name is Stephen Asmond." He offered his hand.

"Lizette Strome." She replied, although you can still see that she was still annoyed.

"That day, the, uh, incident occurred, you said, you were attracted to me." Stephen started.

"Don't start with me. I'm still not over what you did." Lizette replied. She fumbled with the paper bag Kirsten left her. She kept on thinking about how he really felt about "Stephen Asmond". It felt like it doesn't suit him. Probably, his parents didn't just think too well about his name. 'I don't know,' thought Lizette. There was something at the back of her head that she just couldn't quite grasp. Perhaps it would be better if his name was…

Harry Potter?

"Were you talking to me?" Stephen asked.

"No!" she replied. "I mean, your name IS Stephen right?" Stephen was shocked.

"Yeah, that's my name. But I thought you called me something. What was that again?"

"N-nothing. I just thought your name would sound better if it was—"

"Liz! I'm back! Sorry, I couldn't get it quickly. Anyway here's the money, and thanks for keeping Lizette here company. Come on, Liz we have to get going. I hope you didn't have too much fun while I wasn't around."

"Let's just go." Lizette ordered as she took the brown paper bag and jumped off her seat. She pulled Kirsten by the arm and headed out the door.

"Bye, Lizette." Stephen answered not really expecting a reply. But he was glad things were better anyway.

"I can't believe what you did, Kirsten. I was so humiliated! Never drag me there again. I am serious!" 

"Come on Liz. What's this? Maybe it's just…infatuation, that's it! You just don't like the feeling of it."

"Yeah, right."Liz idly replied. She tried to get her cellphone, an old model Evette had on her open bag when she realized it was gone. 

"Oh, no!" she cried out. "My phone's gone! Why would anyone be interested in snatching it?"

"Come on. Maybe it just fell. Let's just go back from where we walked. You're bound to find it."

"Never mind. I'll look for it. Could you just tell Evette I'm not going home yet? When I find my phone, I'm still going to go to Uncle Kevin. Just tell her, okay?" Kirsten nodded and went to the café's direction. 

Lizette looked around. She fumbled around her bag to ensure that it wasn't just buried beneath her stuff. It wasn't there. Nobody could've taken it. I mean, it was and old model. She sighed. Something like this just had to happen. She turned around thinking it could've fallen someplace. She walked around, coming across the same bookstore where she was found. Of course she really wasn't going to meet Uncle Kevin. She looked at the book that caused her heart to beat. She read the title over and over again, trying to make meaning of it all. It was so hard trying to remember nothing. 

Witches?

Wizards?

What was that all about???

She was about to sit down, when someone was already there on where she sat. She was startled, and it was obvious that she wasn't the only one. She sat on the lap of a stranger. She tried to scream when the young man held her hand. It was so warm and comforting, yet, something was telling her that it wasn't right.

"Hey, settle down." He said in a low voice. She tried to gaze in his eyes, squinting her own chocolate ones to see better in the dark. Trying to assess where she saw those, she bent closer. Lizette then realized she was so close. 

"Wha--, oh dear, I'm so sorry." She fixed her sweater which fell from her shoulders and turned around. "Why have I been acting like a freak?" she blurted out loud.

"Hey, it's alright you know." He replied. "Come on, do you need something? Do you want to go for a walk, maybe have some ice cream?"

She nodded.

"So tell me something about yourself," the young man started as he handed the young woman her ice cream.

"Well, I actually don't know much about myself."

"Why? I mean are you in a search for self-discovery?"

"In a way, yeah. You see, I … lost my memory. My name is Lizette now." She replied. She never knew it would be so easy to tell this man about her worries. It was so difficult telling that Stephen Asmond who she was, but with this guy, she felt so secure and light. 

"Ah… Lizette. That's a pretty wonderful name."

"Yeah it is. But I hope that I'd know something a little more about myself  you know."

"Listen. Why don't I help you in that." He suggested.

"Really? You would?" Lizette's hopeful eyes sparkled in delight.

"Why not? A pretty woman like you deserves help you know. It must be hard, what you went through."

"Yeah." She sighed. "But I'm improving now. I'm happy. I have a home, a job… I can say I've got enough."

They continued to walk. It was getting darker. 'Haye's is still open,' Lizette thought, 'but Eve would know I'll be late.' She felt the young man's arms wrap around her. She couldn't help but look at him, his face is not really that visible, since it was dark, but she could sense that he's handsome. She can't believe her luck. A lost phone is not even worth a second of a moment like this. 'I guess the gods were still on my side after all, so to speak,' she thought.

Stephen wiped the counter dry. It was closing night for Piper's and he is as exhausted as ever. But working there was fulfilling, and he was happy for it. He couldn't decipher that Lizette though. She has such a character- very hard core and straightforward, yet vulnerable and sensitive. He shook his head. 'At least I'm in decent terms with her,' he thought. A co worker picked something from the counter. 

"Hey what's this? Ugh. Stephen, you keep it." Stephen held his hands together just in time to catch what his fellow worker threw him. "Uh, okay." He replied.

"Hmmm, it's quiet tonight." Lizette observed, whispering softly. "Hey, I know something you haven't told me."

"What's that?"

"Your name, silly." She giggled.

"Oh, uh, right. Well, I'm happy to say that my name is Francis." He held out her hand for Lizette to shake and he gave a small bow which Lizette laughed at.

"Well, what's your surname. I mean you've got to have one. In my condition I have one. I practically told you about my whole life now, you know, from what I remember it was. And you can't even say your whole name. You're too quiet."

"Why do you want to know?" he asked playfully.

"I don't know, I might just pick something up, you know. It might get in my memory."

"Well, in that case. Here it goes. Lizette Strome, I am pleased to say that you have met…" he paused as she looked in his familiar eyes. His face was illuminated by a post light they passed through.

A/N: Well it isn't much of a cliffhanger isn't it? Hehehe…anyways, I want to thank anonymous for talking me into writing a new chapter. Anyways, I hope that more reviews will be up and running so that I'd be really happy and that there'll be more chapters to come. I told you, a little encouragement is all I need. Well, okay a LOT of encouragement. So keep those reviews coming! Till the next chapter!!

As Lizette looked through his eyes, he smiled, as his gray eyes shone with victory.

"Malfoy……Francis Malfoy."


	8. What's on the Other Side

A/N: I'm back! I wanted to write another chapter so that I can just post it when I get internet access. I hope you like this and continue to watch out for this fic. Thanks to all those who reviewed. Anyways, those who have been asking if Francis and Draco are relatives or something, the answer is down below….within the fic. Just read on…

Wait. I forgot this again.

Disclaimer: Do you want me to tattoo another "HP is not mine" on your forehead?

And rolling!

**What's on the Other Side******

By prowess

"Malfoy, huh?" Lizette repeated. 

"Why, is there anything wrong?" Francis asked as his hoary eyes glinted in the light. A concerned look was in his face, but Lizette could sense a growing fear inside of him. 

"No, no," she reassured. "It just sounds…old. Like, you know.." she tried to think of a good description of how she thought about it. It was at the back of her head, she just can't reach a good conclusion.

"Like it's not of this time and age?" Francis finished for her.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Although, it sounds pretty good for a surname." The last sentence she hastily added, making the tall, striking guy laugh lightly.

"No, I mean it. I'm serious. I don't want you thinking that I think it's funny. In fact, I think I heard it before. Is there any chance you could've- "

"No!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I mean, I believe I haven't seen you before. We haven't met aside from tonight." Lizette was shocked when he jumped, it was like he was hiding something, his stunning features expressed concern and fear.

He was standing in front of her, eyeing her doubting look. He didn't mean that. And he didn't know what to do. _Think Draco, think…_ he muttered to himself. _It is too early to be caught…_

"I…I…believe we haven't met before because…" Francis stuttered… "I could've never been more surprised when I saw you. You were an angel on earth. No one I've met in my whole life can compare to you." He finished. 

Lizette flushed a deep crimson, her eyes almost being stained with tears of happiness. For the first time since she could remember, a guy adores her_. It just can't be infatuation. _Francis said it as if he wanted to hold me forever, _she thought. _

She didn't realize it, as she was floating in her own thoughts, but Francis had cupped her chin, gazed at her dark chocolate pools, and tilted his head. She stared at his captivating gaze, as he lowered himself, his mouth drawing closer to hers. Merely inches away, he stopped.

"May I?" he asked.

Lizette didn't know how to answer. Instead she closed her eyes, as she waited for his mouth to capture hers.

It was no more than a few seconds, it wasn't a rough kiss, it was just light, and it was enough. 

Her beautiful eyes fluttered open as she touched her lips and held her chest, motioning her heart to slow down. His eyes were still set on her, and they stared at each other, speechless, motionless, until Lizette broke their silence. 

"I better be going," she motioned. Looking around. "It's so late." She managed a purely enchanting smile that Francis had mentally pictured and still thought of even a few days after.

"Uh…let me walk you home." He gestured for her to lead the way as he closely followed by her side. They couldn't seem to talk about anything after the kiss.

"Well, this is the place," she started her hand pointing towards her home. 

"Okay, I'll leave you now. I guess I got my goodnight kiss a little early." He laughed again. He was cut short when her mouth pecked his. Before he could react, she broke away, and with a quick goodnight, closed the door. 

"Malfoy?!?! You used Malfoy?!?!?" Glasses shook and plates crashed as a heavy hand pounded on the table. "That is a moronic thing to do, did you know that!?!  You could have been caught, you idiot! I expected better of you Draco."

"I'm sorry, sir, but she caught me off guard. I wasn't able to think of a surname beforehand. But I assure you, sir, that she did not recognize me. I was able to mislead her into thinking I was in love." Draco replied, explaining what happened. His dark robes concealed the clothes he wore just before they parted ways with Lizette. He had reported immediately after to the Dark Lord.

"Very well. I will let this matter go, as long as that muggle will not consider it anymore. Next time, Draco, be careful. A single slip, a single mistake and our plan will be shattered. You may go." Bowing, Draco retreated from the room. He was thankful that Voldemort didn't punish him. Still, he knew he should be careful, otherwise, he'd be dead. 

"Hey Eve, Sorry I'm late. Something came up." The brown haired girl sat on the sofa. "Am-so-tired." She sighed heavily.

The older girl looked at her, popping a grape in her mouth. "Who's the guy?" 

Lizette's eyes popped out. "Oh my gosh, you didn't!"

"uh-huh"her friend slyly replied.

"Not when I…"

"Every single move."

"Hopefully not the…"

"Especially, the kiss." She finished. "Never thought you had it in you." She smirked. 

"Oh no, can I just die now?" Lizette remarked, unable to think of anything to say.

"Well come on, tell me what happened!" Evette squealed, jumping to the sofa.

"I thought you saw EVERYTHING." Lizette replied moving out of the sofa.

"I'm not psychic, Liz. I mean, what happened before! How did you meet the blonde? Betcha fell for him completely."

"More like fell on him.."she replied remembering how she stumbled into Francis' lap. Evette eyed her weirdly, and with a large gulp of air, she told the whole story.

"Okay, you fell on the guy's lap then you walked around and then kissed? Whoa, pretty intense for the first day."

"I'm going to sleep. Good thing I'm not working tomorrow. Good night Eve," She groggily 

commented. 

"More like good morning. That reminds me, I've been planning to ask you this the moment you came in that door. Where have you been?" she was answered with a loud thud of the door. 

"Hey, check that cool cell you've got there," a thin man replied. He was cleaning the dishes as he eyed his friend.

"What, this? It isn't mine. I just found it in the counter. Must've fallen off someone's bag." Stephen moved the phone around a bit, checking for a name or anything to help him identify the owner. 

"Well, you better get rid of it. I'm sure the owner would be calling soon."

Lizette threw her pillow on the floor. She thought it was a dream, or maybe she left it in the house. 

Yes, her phone is forever lost. 

"Why is this happening to me?" she shrieked. She liked the phone so much. It had lots of messages and quotes. She just couldn't bear the fact that its out in the streets, or it's in somebody else's possession. It was already time for brunch, Lizette groggily stood up as she placed back the pillow from the floor. She decided what she could have for breakfast, or brunch rather, as she scanned the fridge for something that pleases her palate. _Toast would be good, and some eggs or maybe bacon…hmmm…orange juice, prune juice, or iced tea? _

She took her choice and sat on their small breakfast nook to observe the wonderful scenery. There were already a lot of people walking around the streets, busy as ever. She can't help but remember last night. The warmth of his touch, his hypnotizing gaze, his wonderful smile, the sweetness of his lips. She inhaled deeply as she tried to savor that memory, and wished she would see him again. One thought bothered her though.

"Why did he act frantically when I asked him if he knew me from before?" she inquired. "He sure was freaked out about it. But, I guess he was just shocked. I mean, I did ask him bluntly. Silly me…" she talked to herself, sipping her iced tea.

Thoughts still drifting around Francis, his eyes, his smile, his eyes, his touch, his eyes…she completely forgot her beloved phone. Suddenly she jolted, as if an arrow shot through her brain. 

"Why didn't I think of this before?" she reprimanded herself before going back to her room for a bath and a quick change…

Stepping out of the apartment and locking the door behind her, she turned around, and completely froze. 

Francis was standing right in front of her.

"Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?" she asked, half surprised and half overjoyed. _Hurrah!! He was here! She managed to think to herself. _

"Well, I thought you were free today, so I just stopped by. I was supposed to knock when you came out. Do you have any plans?" Lizette was speechless. 

"W-w-ell…no…I mean,"she frowned, remembering her errand, "yes…I mean…not really…I just have to stop by somewhere.."she stuttered. She received one of his charming laughs again…

"May I accompany you? And afterwards, do you want to go someplace else?" 

"Well, okay. Why not?" she answered back. "I just have to borrow the phone of my friend. She works there at Haye's coffeshop with me."

"Oh, really? Why do you need a phone?" he inquired. The sweet face he made, the curiosity in his eyes made her heart beat faster.

"Well, I lost my phone, so I just wanted to call it—" she was cut short when a phone is handed to her, one of the latest models.

"It's not the best but I hope it will do…" he offered.

"Are you kidding? This is nowhere near my phone. Thanks." She delicately took the phone from his hands, tensing as their skins touched. Blushing, she then dialed her number.

Rrrring…..

Rrrrrrring…..

Rrrrring……

There was no answer.

"It's not answering." She whispered, frowning. Francis looked up at her, silver eyes showing concern…

"Well try again…Come on.."

Rrring….

Rrrrring….

Rrring…..

"Hey man the phone's ringing. Answer it. It could be an order." The thin man looked at Stephen.

"It's not our phone, it's this phone." He gestured to the phone he was holding. He was in a dark gray sweater, wearing a blue and gray striped shirt underneath. He was about to finish his shift when the phone rang.

Lizette clutched her the phone tighter. _Answer…answer..answer!_

A/N: Decided to end there for a while. I'm getting tired. I'm going to try and make as many chapters as I can, so that I don't have to panic later on when I keep my mind off fanfiction for awhile. I hope you liked this chapter, and for those that were asking if Francis and Draco are relatives, as seen from the chap, they are not. The reason being is that they are the same person. Draco changed his name to Francis…the explanation is up there. Read again if you missed it. It was just a short scene. Anyways, to those that reviewed continuously, a big thank you to you. Anonymous, usha88, all the others, I was supposed to name you one by one, but I got disconnected at the last minute. I'm so sorry. Please review again and I will happily acknowledge you. Thank you, and till the next chapter!

_Come on…answer…answer!!!_

"Hello?"

"You!?!?!?"


	9. Things Better Left Undone

**Note of Prowess**: To all who are still tuning in to this fic and all my other fics, I would first like to say that I deeply, truly, sorrowfully apologize for not continuing. As always, my first and foremost reason is priorities. I just had so much to do that I had to sacrifice this. I had a lot of entrance exams to prepare for, plus the tons of projects I had to do. I am sorry if any of you got tired, mad, impatient or anything but it can't be helped. Second, I would like to perpetually, gratefully, pleasingly thank those who waited, and those who liked this fic (and all the rest to be finished). It means a lot that there are people out there who are interested in the stories I make and it saddens my heart to disappoint all of you. You probably thought I was dead, huh? But I'm not and I decided to have a comeback cause I missed writing so much. These days I have not so much to do so I got to rest and then thought of checking back on fanfiction. I haven't entered the site for the past few months (that's how hard it got) and I'm quite surprised at the changes. I was checking on my account when I noticed the list of people waiting for my updates and I felt guilty. I was also checking all the reviews and I saw how everyone was anxious to get things done and I'm so sorry I really couldn't pull  it together sooner, but seeing all those things happening, the nine people who entered my account in their list of updates-in-waiting just made me think of writing again. It wasn't writer's block or anything, taking time off actually formed new ideas in my head. I got to think more and reinvent my style perhaps, or change some possible scenes here and there. The main problem is that I didn't have the time, and when I did I just couldn't do anything but rest. I guess all I needed was a few clicks back to my account. So here I am, delivering my sincerest thanks and apologies. I hope you still tune in and wait till my stories finish.

            First things first, I have to delete fics. I reread my stories again and I just saw how corny some were and how childish I wrote so I'm going to delete them first. Before I was so determined in making a lot of stories, but now they really don't matter anymore. I'd rather have a few well written complete stories rather than a ton of uncompleted ones. It was also a reason why I updated slow, cause I had to choose which story was going to be updated next. I don't know what fics I'm going to delete first but I was thinking those with just a single chapter are going first. Probably erasing three or four would be enough, we'll see, but you can recommend stories of mine that are really cliché or predictable or uninteresting and I'll see if I'd delete it for quicker decision making. 

            Second, I'm sorry but I'm not open to the idea of me beta-reading anymore. To those who requested, I'm kind of waiting for the right timing, and right now isn't that time. Heck, I can't even update my stories, what more worry about others, no offense meant. It's just that that's the way it goes. To those who emailed, it's just a small number, but nonetheless I'm really sorry. I'm pretty sure there are a lot of other talented writers out there, maybe even better than I am who would be more than willing to beta read for you. 

            Third, like I said, there might be some changes in my style so if there are any major discrepancies in the stories, or if the writing's not good, just inform me. I hope that my transition, if there would be any, would be for the better. I think that my time of really did something good for me. I got to think more and I got to know more about us as human beings which I think will really pay off in angsty stories which I really love. I hope there really aren't any major differences such as me not writing like I used to or the characters being out of character or anything like that. If I would change, I hope its for the better and I hope you guys get to see that through the next couple of chapterts. 

            Fourth, I don't guarantee that I would be updating more frequently now. I don't want to make a promise I can't keep so I'm saying that I think in my life that isn't going to happen soon. I really marvel at those who get to update weekly. I'm just a teenager who is still looking for the right time budgeting technique for her and unluckily I haven't found it yet. However, I hope you continue to bear with me. And do remind me to update, it's what gets me going. Although don't scold me, that really ticks me off and makes me get out of my writing zone. Just remind me, you know without too much side comments.

            I honestly don't regret not updating for a while cause I got to think about how I want to do things in my life. I also realized how writing was a skill I can hone to be better, and I hope you get to witness that here and in my other fics. Aside from that, I was able to know more about myself and I got to finish things that I had to finish. It's fun to write, and my absence from it just made me realize how I miss it. So I want to finish what I've started and I hope you support me all the way. With all that said, I give you the ninth chapter to my very first fic. I hope it compensates for my long absence. Other updates will come soon. 

**Things Better left Undone **

By prowess

            "You!?!?!"  Lizette screamed on the phone. A huge mixture of emotions brewed inside of her as she tried not to let go of Francis' wonderfully cool phone and shatter it to wires and batteries. She also bit her tongue to prevent from screaming all the distasteful words that, when used as much as she wanted to at the moment, can shut her from heaven. 

"I can't believe you would do this… you… good for nothing, unworthy, careless…….thief!!!" Lizette clutched Francis' phone tighter as she finally got hold of the person who took her old phone. Francis, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised. Apparently, he thought to himself, she knew who the person on the other line was, and apparently he added, they were not in good terms.

            "Wait… calm down. I can explain…" Stephen tried to reassure. Deep inside, he was praying to the gods that this acquaintance won't disappear into thin air. He should **not** have answered the phone, he emphasized. Bad idea.

            "No **YOU** wait!" Lizette screeched like a resurrected banshee. "You come around trying to befriend me and get to know me then you would go stealing my phone! What's with you anyway? Going through all this trouble to get my phone! I mean, that definitely won't catch your eye. It's plain black, no colored casing, it's an old model, you can just text and call, there aren't any games, no funky ringtones, what, what about it did you want pickpocket?" Lizette started taking fast paces, and Francis was trying to catch up. "I'm going there at Piper's!!!" 

            Woah!" Stephen shuddered, as he grabbed his stuff and hurried to the door, wanting to get out. "I don't think that's a good idea." He replied calmly, smirking as he blended with the crowd, a brilliant idea formulating in his head. It was almost lunchtime and he was starving. _Boy, am I a genius or what?!? _he thought to himself. "But, you know, if you want to go to Piper's go ahead." _I'm not there, _he mentally added amusingly in a sing song manner.

Lizette froze. "Why did your voice change?" Her eyes slimmed to slits as she tried to decipher the difference in the other end of the line.

"My voice did not change!" He said defensively.

"Yes it did! Well anyway, I'm going to get you and I'm getting my phone back." She started walking again, just as Francis caught up with her. 

"Oh really?" Stephen relied coolly, raising his eyebrow. "Well, everybody is entitled to try…" he remarked slyly, his ears receiving a shrill scream at an annoyed little waitress.

"Why you stupid bastard …"Lizette was starting, her fists were tightening and a fraction of force more she could've actually blew the phone into powdery bits. 

"Wait….Liz? Heh. Can I call you that?" Stephen started again, amusing himself. He let out a snort as he heard Lizette freaking out on the other end of the line. "Yeah well, the battery wasn't charged so this old phone's going to shut anytim—" He placed the phone in his coat and walked the street to go home and amuse himself some more.

"Aaaah! I can't believe this!" Lizette gave the phone back to Francis, who was dumbfounded. "I am so sorry you heard that. I think I used up all your credits. I'm just going to pay you eventually." Her hand was tensely placed on her forehead. 

"Oh don't worry about that," he replied. He paused when Lizette stood in front of him and told him to wait outside the café. "I really don't want you to witness my dark side." She took a deep breath and swung the doors of the new coffee shop open.

"Alright, where's the bastard?" she shouted amongst the customers. Gasps and whispers escaped from their lips and evaporated in the room. She didn't care a single bit and was ready to break all  hell loose when a voice on the end of the counter answered her.

"He's not here." Stephen's co-worker mumbled. 

"Now don't you even think of hiding him from me…John." She answered coldly as she looked at his nametag. This "Stephen" has irritated her life from the first few minutes of contact and she cannot tolerate it anymore.

"Come on lady, he isn't here okay," another co-worker called from behind the bar. "He left cause his shift was over, he was talking to someone on the phone."  This made Lizette scream, her face turning to an angry purple. This guy chose the wrong words to say. "Lady, could you please step outside and let us attend to our work." 

With a quick turn Lizette stormed out and bumped into Francis. "So, how was it?" he asked, rather sheepishly. He can't think of anything else to say. 

"He wasn't there, the witty little twit." She replied her eyebrows knot together. She was mumbling a lot of things Francis wasn't able to catch and he really didn't want to know what those were; he was sure about who they were for though. A kick of a stone nearby urged him to think of something to ease her angry mind. 

"Come on, stop thinking about it. Why don't we eat? Ease your mind of this a bit. Besides it's already lunchtime." 

"Well, I've been uptight lately." She replied, obviously still annoyed, but a lot calmer than before. The mental storms seemed to have subsided. "Alright. I could use a glass of cold lemonade or two."

Francis grinned . "Great." 

Sitting in a restaurant nearby, due to Lizette's request, Francis laid down slices of bagels and cream cheese. Lizette really didn't want to eat and she wanted something light. Besides, she wanted something she can eat and run with especially if some guy with jet black hair came passing by. That way, she can stuff the food in her mouth as she strangled the ungrateful creature till he stays motionless. Lizette's grip on the bagel got a little too tight as she created a simple demonstration of what she would do to the mongrel. 

"Hey, uh, I think you have a little too rough grip on that bagel." Francis started as he waved a hand in front of Lizette's tense face. 

"Wha- oh… Oooh," she said emphasizingly, getting the idea. Sorry I guess I got a little too carried away." She smiled, much to Francis relief.

"I would say that is an understatement." Francis joked, and together they laughed. Her melodious laughter rang on his ears and for a fraction of a second, he thought his heart skipped a beat and then started thumping louder. He just stood staring at her for a couple of seconds until he realized he was saying something. 

"…you know, it's just those things that make me really mad. Ugh…I don't want to think about it anymore. I'm sorry." She finished, taking a sip from her requested lemonade.

"Oh, that's okay. I'm all ears. For you… always." He mumbled, trying to create sensible strings of words, his humiliation he covered with one of his prettiest smiles. Lizette tried hard not to salivate and took a big bite of her bagel. 

It seemed like just a few minutes when bite by bite, all the bagels were finally left to crumbs, the cream cheese was neatly spooned to the sides, and all that's left in their glasses were melting ice. Francis and Lizette were sharing story after story; Lizette ironically doing more of the talking, despite her lack of memory. Francis was more of the listener and Lizette noticed he kept most of his life untold. _Maybe he's just one of those people that really had a haunting, dark, traumatic past. I really shouldn't force it out on him, _she mused. 

"Well, he didn't come back," Lizette observed staring at the Piper's Café entrance. 

"You don't have to strangle him, you know. I think he's seen enough of your dark side. I know I have." He added meaning for it to be a joke.

"Well, you didn't deserve to see my dark side if that's what you want to call it," she replied. "I don't think I have any reason to show it to you."

"You mean that?"

"With all the good that's left of me." 

They exchanged the sweetest smiles before Lizette looked down, to hide her flushed face and told Francis they better get going. 

"Why? It's still early. Don't tell me you're going to lock yourself up." Francis assumed.

"Well, it's just that it's a bad day today and I want to rest." Lizette sighed.

"We can do something together. I hope I can bring something good out of your miserable affair." He reassured.

"Oh don't worry…You kind of… already have." She was twisting her ankle as she said it, eyes downcast fingers fumbling each other. 

"Let me do more." Francis lent out his hand for hers to take. He smiled reassuringly as he nodded towards her. Who could ever resist? Lizette stretched her hand and gingerly placed it on top of his as he led her towards the busy streets of London. A lot of people were roaming around town and a bit of sight seeing was what they needed. Lizette knew even before that she was going to have fun.

A/N: Ending it right here. This actually the blurriest part in this story. I kind of have the idea, I just don't know the specifics so it's hard to write what's on my mind. I still don't know how to make Harry or Stephen rather to be a little bit more pleasing to Hermione. But I guess I'll find the answer along the way. Anyway, like I said, I hope this makes up for the long period I was gone. It's just now that I realized this and all my other stories are already in the making for almost two years. Pathetic I know. I'm slower than, I don't know, a snail, a turtle and some other slow animal combined. I'm probably a microbe trying to cross a ruler or something, I don't know. But I'm hoping things get easier for me. So I hope I have your support and assurance that you'll stick to the end. Till the next chapter which I hope will be out very ,VERY soon. 

By the way I would like to thank the past reviewers which I left unanswered. I'll just individually include comments on the next chapter.

Wandering around the streets of London didn't sound bad to Lizette. She happily glided through the pathways, hands, or arms rather enclosed in his. From a passerby's point of view, you would actually think the two were lovers, an engaged couple maybe, by the way his slender arms curve at her waist and how she held his arm lovingly as if it were the most delicate thing on earth. They were like newlyweds, he whispering sweet nothings at her ear as they walked and she letting faint giggles bounce through her mouth wonderfully. Who knew they were just acquaintances? Lizette sighed and closed her eyes, assured that nothing will go wrong from this point on. She was like in fairy land, where everything was flowery and there is a faint light music playing through her ears. It felt like they were walking in slow motion, each step lighter than the former; and she felt like they were floating. 

Then a flash of jet-black flashed by her. 


End file.
